The Leopard from New York
by the stargate time traveller
Summary: Posted in tribute to Stan Lee, and inspired by a British comic book. In another universe Peter Parker, a luckless teenager, gained incredible powers...from a Leopard after stumbling on an experiment with alien technology. After gaining his powers, Peter needs to make a choice, but does he choose to become a superhero or a super thief? No pairing.
1. Chapter 1 The Teleportation lab

I decided to post this chapter earlier than I'd originally planned to commemorate the great Stan Lee. I only heard of his death last night, and I just knew I needed to post this new story.

It's been a while since I've written an AU Spider-Man story, as always I don't own Marvel comics.

I was inspired by an old British comic which, ironically, was virtually identical in plot to Spider-Man - a teenager gained superpowers from an animal, becomes a costumed superhero, and takes photos of himself in action.

It's called the Leopard from Lime Street.

Feedback would be appreciated.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

When Peter Parker would later look on this day when he grew older, he would still be surprised that it had started out normally.

The day which would change his life forever and create a ripple effect where nothing would ever be real for him again and would shape his life forever began here, and where he would gain so much and yet lose so much, was just an ordinary day.

He had woken up earlier and had his breakfast earlier before he'd said goodbye to Aunt May and Uncle Ben before he headed for the bus stop to catch the school bus to Midtown High, though today was going to be different since they were going on a school trip to a genetics laboratory among other things, though it was surprising that it was going to be at Oscorp Industries.

According to the information about the trip, the genetics laboratory would be visited last while the Midtown High Seniors visited labs dedicated to Osborns' pet projects in space technology, things like that.

Peter was excited to see a number of high-tech laboratories that were dedicated to science, especially in a field like genetic engineering, though he knew that his classmates wouldn't be interested; he had long since become used to the fact he was the only person fascinated by science and technology whereas the others were more interested in sports and things Peter couldn't understand.

Peter Parker sometimes missed the fact he had no real friends - even his friendship with Harry Osborn, one of the In-crowd, though it was more down to the fact the other guy was richer than everyone in the school put together was more a friendship of convenience though there was some genuine chemistry between them - but there was little he could do about it.

He was an average teenager. Actually maybe not so average since he was tall and fairly skinny without any real muscle on his arms despite the effort he had once tried to put into making himself stronger though his body had let him down and he had had below average strength ever since which made school a nightmare since the bullies had picked up on it a long time ago and got away with bullying him because he couldn't fight back.

Peter had short brown hair, blue eyes that were covered by a pair of glasses. He was among the smartest people in the school, science and computers being his number one specialities. As a result, he wasn't the most popular boys in the school, being on the opposite end of the spectrum compared to people like Harry Osborn, Flash Thompson, Mary Jane Watson, and Sally Avril.

Every day Peter was bullied by Flash Thompson, whom Peter had known all of his life (well as far back as he could remember), because Flash always bullied and tormented him for reasons Peter couldn't even begin to work out, though after a while Peter had realised he didn't care either because he genuinely couldn't see any way for

Even now standing by the stop he kept as far from the few kids his age who attended the high school as possible - his shyness in making friends had made them think he was snobbish about his ability to understand science, but over time he had decided that it didn't matter; he wasn't likely to know or work with any of them after college, so he could get away with keeping his distance.

As the yellow bus arrived, Peter got onboard silently and went to catch a seat, though he had to sit next to a girl who also wore glasses (he wasn't bothered when she called him a geek - it didn't matter to him that much) while ignoring the fact she didn't want him sitting next to her at all, but he made sure to sit on the edge of the seat to give her the impression he wasn't anywhere near her, and he waited while the bus headed into the city to the Oscorp Industries building.

As the bus was driven into the city, Peter wondered what the laboratory held but he didn't care because he would be in his element and he'd be learning new things about genetics, though he did wonder why Norman Osborn was even allowing this trip. From what he knew of him, he knew the elder Osborn was extremely private about his work.

But Peter shrugged his shoulders and sat silently, willing the day to be over. He could hear Flash Thompson already guffawing at one of his unfunny jokes. Knowing Flash, Peter was probably the butt of that joke, but it was not big deal for him anymore.

The Oscorp Industries building was slap bang in the middle of Manhattan, and as he looked up at the towering building, gleaming in the light of the city of near-unparalleled achievement, Peter couldn't help but wonder what was inside. He couldn't help it since he knew enough about Norman Osborn's reputation thanks to knowing his son, Harry, and from what he had heard over the years. He felt like a little kid being let into a candy factory, only this candy was full of high-tech science.

He tried to imagine the amazing technology inside, but he knew that he was only making guesses at what was inside. There were probably pieces of technology inside that building Peter himself had never imagined could have existed, let alone saw unless it was if he was working in a high-tech laboratory as he grew older.

They were met at reception by a tall blonde woman who looked like she would have liked to be anywhere other than there; Peter couldn't blame her. She probably had better things to do with her time than babysit a number of teenagers who weren't interested in the least about this trip, but he saw her look with an unimpressed stare over Peter's shoulder, though the bespectacled teenager didn't need to glance back, he could hear Flash's stupid laugh a mile off.

The jock was probably with the rest of the In-crowd who were only here to get away from school but had better things to do than visit a boring tower block where they wouldn't be able to do what they wanted.

Peter only paid half an ear the teacher when he said in an exasperated and tired voice that they were going to enter the building and they shouldn't embarrass the school, and he sympathised with him though he didn't say anything out loud. He knew the teacher was wasting his time; Flash and the others didn't care if they embarrassed the school in front of a big shot businessman like Norman Osborn who was already one of the largest businesspeople in the city, though truthfully Peter didn't think the man would care much beyond keeping his business off limits to any school trip.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he was tripped over - again - and he almost fell into the rest of the class, but he managed to grab onto a nearby door rail to hold himself up.

But his glasses weren't so lucky. They were thrown off of his face and they landed on the ground. Peter managed to recover his balance but before he could reach them, a booted foot stamped down on them.

"No!"

Peter looked up and found himself looking at Flash, who was grinning smugly down at him.

"My bad. Are you okay Petey?" Flash mocked while his friends pretended to wipe their eyes of tears.

Peter clenched his fists angrily while he glared at Flash - he wasn't nearly as short-sighted visually as people might expect, but his glasses were still useful. He was just relieved he had a spare pair back home. "What was the point of that?" he asked.

He couldn't help himself. He was just totally frustrated by how juvenile Flash acted sometimes and believed he was cool because of it.

Flash saw the anger on Peter's face, and he had taken note of the clenched fists. Menacingly the other boy stepped closer, and his voice was noticeably harder.

"Go on, what are you gonna do?" Flash asked threateningly, but Peter knew he couldn't do anything and Flash knew it.

"Stop it, Flash."

Peter was astonished when he saw Mary Jane Watson herself approached. He hadn't seen her on the bus, but Mary Jane had been the object of his interest though they'd never spoken to one another. Before he could say anything, the girl sidled up to Flash without once paying any attention to Peter. That was bad enough for Peter, but what the redheaded girl said next broke his heart. "Leave the geek alone, he's not worth it. Now come on, let's see these boring labs," she said.

Peter stiffened while he tried desperately to mask the hurt he was feeling at what the girl had just said, just knowing if Flash saw it or one of the jocks friends told him about it, his life would not be worth living since Mary Jane was Flash's girlfriend, and if there was one thing Flash hated it was his girlfriends being fancied by others.

Ordinarily, Peter wouldn't bother.

But this was different. He had always nursed a crush on Mary Jane Watson in the past, along with Liz Allen and Sally Avril, but after what she'd just said to him….. What was the point? He thought to himself sullenly. She was like the rest of them. Looks couldn't cover personality, it seemed, and it was clear while Mary Jane may have had the voice of an angel and sounded like one too, she had an awful personality.

Flash grinned crookedly at Peter, and for a second Peter had a suspicion the other guy could tell his favourite target was heartbroken about what Mary Jane had just said, but Peter couldn't bring himself to care.

"What's going on there?" the teacher demanded as he looked around the class, his eyes narrowing with dislike as he stared at Flash. "Everyone's inside. Get in here!"

Peter rushed inside without a word, but he was too angry to care about how he appeared to Flash or Mary Jane. But unseen by the jock and by Peter himself, Mary Jane suddenly looked sad…

* * *

The class was almost to the genetics laboratory but by that point, Peter wished it was over. His original excitement to see the laboratories at Oscorp had been numbed by what Mary Jane had said to him earlier. He had long since worked out he would never be popular at school, or friends with anyone barring the teachers who enjoyed the fact at least one person in his class wanted to learn, but he had honestly thought the girl was nicer than the soulless harpy whom he'd seen outside.

Gripping the camera he'd brought with him to take some pictures to help further inspire him to become a scientist and put some actual distance between himself and his former classmates when he finally left college though his heart was no longer in it, Peter looked around the laboratory.

He had to admit, it was actually quite impressive and it was just the type of place that he wanted to work in when he was older so then he could contribute something to human scientific development, but then again Oscorp was a company that obviously believed in sparing no expense for long-term scientific research. It made sense the labs would be so high tech.

All around there were scientists wearing white lab coats with ID tags pinned to their breast pockets, but as he looked around Peter couldn't begin to understand what they were doing, but the teenager knew better than to ask them and distract the scientists from their work. The laboratory was vast and the reluctant "tour guide" had led the class to the centre of the lab and was busy talking to them, but Peter paid her little attention.

He wanted to get away from the class. He needed some time to himself so he could get some of his earlier enthusiasm back; while he would have loved nothing better than to brood sullenly at what Mary Jane had said about him, he didn't want to look back on this moment later on and kick himself for missing out on the perfect opportunity to see some real science just because he was sulking over a girl who had a pretty face but had the attitude of a bitch.

Peter looked around the laboratory for some inspiration before he saw a door tucked out of the way of the laboratory without any kind of visible electronic lock. Peter slowly walked towards it, making sure that if anyone saw him they'd think he was just looking at the work going on around him while he kept his distance away from Flash and the others; the last thing he wanted was to open that door only for the tour guide to see him, or worse the teacher.

But Peter somehow managed to reach the door and with a quick glance around him to make sure no one was paying him any attention, he slipped inside and out of sight. It may not be as easy later when he got back, but he'd cross that bridge later though he truly didn't care anymore.

While he was thinking about that, he looked around. Unlike the gleaming, immaculate laboratories he had seen during this trip, he was in a nondescript corridor. There were doors at every intersection with labels printed on them along with the occasional hazardous warning signs on them. Peter decided to keep away from them; he may have been depressed, but he wasn't suicidal or stupid enough to walk through those doors.

Peter walked down the corridor, wishing that the doors had some kind of viewing window so he could see what was on the other side, but as he walked down the end of the corridor and turned left, though he had no choice since it was an L shaped passage, he stopped when he heard something that sounded familiar.

It was the roar of a big cat.

You heard them all of the time at a zoo, but what were the scientists of Oscorp doing with them? Cautiously Peter walked down the corridor, listening as the sounds grew louder, while they were mixed with the sounds of other animals until they overlapped. When he stood outside the door he hesitantly reached out to open it - only to flinch back as the door jamb started to move down as someone opened it. Thinking quickly, Peter ducked out of sight just in time as the door opened and two scientists walked out.

"How come Osborn doesn't come anywhere near here?" one scientist asked his colleague as they stepped out into the corridor.

"Ah, he does. He just prefers going out to the other laboratory, that's where the Cyber-Wing project is being undertaken. But he does come here to see how we're doing and to make sure the experiments go according to plan."

The first scientist shook his head while he stepped out of the room himself, oblivious to Peter's presence. "I can't believe Osborn went to so much trouble to get that alien tech into our lab, only to discount it," the man shook his head clearly perplexed by the fact.

"What can you expect from a man who has so many projects for the government?"

While the two scientists were leaving their lab, Peter used the time to put his foot into the door to stop it closing. He didn't know if the lock had some kind of passkey or a code that he didn't know, and he wasn't going to take the chance. All he wanted was to see the technology inside, the alien hardware. He was sure it came from that battle in New York which happened a year or so ago, which had been dealt with by the Avengers.

As soon as the scientists were out of sight without even noticing him, Peter slipped inside the lab behind their backs and he stepped inside but not before he found a small doorstop, and after he placed it in the doorway to make it look like the scientists had closed it after them he walked inside the lab and the sight that met his eyes made them shoot open in shock. His mouth dropped in awe.

Built along the wall of the laboratory were a number of cages with numerous wild animals inside. When Peter walked down the line, they took notice of his presence and some of them threw themselves at him while their hopefully reinforced cages stopped them from reaching out and catching him with their paws and claws.

Zoology was not really Peter's field, but even he would have to be incredibly stupid not to recognise an American grizzly bear as it towered inside its cage, bellowing with rage and it's long claws glinted menacingly. Peter looked warily at the bear, just like he looked warily at the chimpanzee as it shrieked at him, showing those pointed yellow fangs which could bite right down into his flesh and tear out massive chunks.

But what really fascinated Peter were the two platforms at the end of the lab with a console linking them. On one of the platforms was a cage with a leopard trapped inside it; he knew it was a leopard because he'd once been fascinated by the difference between a jaguar, a cheetah and a leopard.

Steering clear of the leopard as it paced angrily inside its cage, not wanting to aggravate it, even more, Peter looked around and went over to the console for a second. For all his scientific background he didn't understand what any of this was meant to do, and besides that the console was alien in design. One of the screens showed a 3D image of the leopard, but only the leopard, not the cage. There were a series of numbers Peter recognised as genetic sequencing, but he didn't understand the purpose of the rest of this alien technology.

Aliens…

Peter still wasn't sure what to make of the fact Oscorp had access to this stuff, but he guessed it made sense they would since they clearly had links to the government. Peter quickly shook his head when his mind wandered and tried to think about things in a manner similar to that of a conspiracy theorist when he definitely did not have the time to do it. He had no idea how long those scientists were going to be gone for, but he didn't want to be around when they got back.

Peter blew out a breath and looked around the lab again before he stepped onto the platform next to the one with the leopard cage mounted on it, but before he could get an idea of what it was, he suddenly felt dizzy. He felt as though he were in two places at once, both on the platform he was on and the one the leopard was on.

Suddenly it was over and he stumbled around for a second before he recovered his balance and he looked around the lab again before he realised he couldn't see anything clearly. Peter took off his spare pair of glasses and suddenly he could see everything clearly before he slipped the glasses back on, and then they were blurry.

"Weird," Peter remarked as he shoved the now useless glasses into his pocket and he got off the platform, but then he stopped when he suddenly realised that with each step he took, his whole body seemed to be throbbing with energy. Desperate for answers, Peter walked over to the console and he studied the controls and the screens.

When he had looked at the before to study them and figure out what they did and how they worked, Peter had seen the screens virtually blank except for one which showed the leopard. Now though there was something new on one of the screens. It showed a 3D image of the leopard and himself though fortunately, it didn't show his face blending together and then separating, it showed two words underneath.

"Genetic Fusion."

More writing appeared underneath the two words before Peter could work out what genetic fusion meant, and with his new vision, Peter was able to read the writing on the screen clearly.

"Subject: Leopard fused DNA with Subject: Human as programmed. Human subject now has 40% Leopard DNA."

40% leopard DNA? He had the DNA of this big cat in his body? It was fused into his own genetic structure? Peter wanted to deny it, but what about his suddenly great vision, and the strange throbbing in his body? He felt stronger than ever, and when he moved he felt like someone had given his leg muscles a performance enhancer.

But he was worried as well. When Peter was younger, he had seen The Fly starring Jeff Goldblum (the special effects may look a bit dated by modern standards, but Peter didn't care since the way it was done was timeless). Just remembering how the actor's character Seth Brundle slowly mutated into a human/fly hybrid and considering he'd been put through a similar process that had been clearly on their agenda to mix two different DNA strands together under more controlled circumstances worried Peter. What if he began to sprout fur all over his body? What if he started growing a tail in order to control his balance like a real leopard?

Any further concerns were shoved to the side when Peter suddenly heard something outside. It was a slight sound that a normal human being who hadn't been put through the teleport and had their DNA mixed, but Peter heard the sound clearly. It was the voice of one of the scientists who worked in this laboratory on the teleportation equipment, and as he paused to listen Peter didn't notice that he had completely stopped and went completely still and was even sniffing the air like a cat. It wasn't just his ears and his sense of hearing that had been augmented, he realised quickly; he could smell the animals in here more than he had been when he'd stepped through the door. But now he could pick up on other scents of the room; he could pick up the scent of air freshener in the lab somewhere, he could smell the last dregs of coffee in a discarded mug, he could pick up on the scent of chocolate. It was almost overwhelming, but he could also pick up on the scent of the scientists themselves. He had not been able to detect the smell of them before, but he could definitely smell a mix of scents that he had to stop his mind processing. Although it was fascinating what he was smelling now following the teleportation incident, he didn't want to be seen by the scientists who worked in this lab. He had no idea how to erase the computer's memory of his presence on the pad and he didn't want them to make the connection when they found out what had happened.

Pivoting on his heels, Peter rushed towards the door, but the urgency of the situation made him take a running leap towards the door out of reflex so he could reach the door more quickly before they could get in, making the animals within the cages react loudly but he was out of their reach. After Peter had gotten over his shock that he had moved not just so quickly but with such agility that even the top athlete and gymnast would've been shocked themselves, he landed nimbly on the ground with barely a sound (he wondered if the soles of his feet had developed the pads of a cat, but he pushed that aside for the moment; he had to get out of here), and he quickly made another leap. But this time Peter was the one in control, this time aiming for the back of the door when it would open so then he'd have some cover for when he wanted to leave. By the time the scientists were opening the door, Peter was out of sight and they walked in, too busy with their conversation they didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

One man burped. "Ah! That really hits the spot!"

His friend looked at him with disgust. "Come on, we've got a lot to do. Hopefully, we can finally make enough headway to convince Osborn and those military idiots we can finally make genetic engineering more practical."

"Do you really think we're gonna get those contracts?"

"I don't know. Osborn and the others have so many contracts, it's hard to keep track."

As the two men walked away, they didn't notice Peter slipping out of the room. They walked up to the console and to the teleportation platforms to check on their experiment.

* * *

Peter managed to slip back into the main laboratory and he was relieved to see that his classmates were still there where he'd left them. That wasn't a surprise - in each of the labs their tour guide went to great lengths to show his class the various experiments though he'd noticed there were one or two experiments she refused to show, though if anyone else noticed he didn't know and didn't really care.

Looking around Peter made sure the coast was clear, and he walked back to the others and stood at the back of the class, hoping that no-one noticed he was only now coming over to them, and he scanned the other teenagers to see if any of them had noticed. Once more he was amazed by the new abilities he had. He didn't know a good deal about cats but he knew they had an extremely sharp vision, it looked like he had it now himself. It didn't look like anyone else had noticed he was just turning up, but he was no longer bothered.

But Peter refused to relax. He wasn't sure how long it would take for the two scientists who worked on the teleportation-genetic experiments to figure out what had happened, they couldn't be that stupid could they? But he was sure that his new animal instincts made him more aware of everyone and everything that was going on around him. Although he kept his eyes on the teacher and the on the guide to make it clear they had his attention, he would always take a slow quiet breath to pick out the different scents while he was prepared to bolt for it or fight back. He had never considered fighting anyone before, knowing he would lose, but now he felt as if there was something wild inside him, waiting to be unleashed. It both amazed and terrified him because he had no idea what he now had.

Peter did not relax until he was back home a few hours later.

* * *

Until next time.


	2. Chapter 2 Aftermath

I don't own Spider-Man, that's my little disclaimer. I just own this little piece of continuity.

I hope you all enjoy this latest instalment of the story.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter breathed a sigh of relief under his breath as he walked through the door to the house he'd spent his whole life in. The journey back to Forest Hills had been incredibly tense for Peter; on the one hand, he was still trying to work out all that had happened to him, and he was still mystified.

On the bus, he had picked out things with his new eyesight, and he'd caught himself tracking the movement of a number of people or anything that really interested him. When the bus had passed a few dogs, Peter had felt hostile towards them but he had managed to catch himself before he could do anything suspicious.

He felt….strong, so incredibly strong. It was a good thing, under the circumstances, he had sat as far from Flash as he could; he didn't want to get into a fight with the jock because he was almost certain if he and Flash did come to blows, Peter was sure that the jock would find himself in hospital.

Somehow the thought of Flash being hurt appealed to Peter. It was strange, but for a guy who had been on the wrong side of a fight for most of his life, the thought of being able to seriously hurt Flash did appeal to him.

But truthfully, if anyone on the bus had caused him any problems, Peter would have lashed out. He was frightened. The Oscorp scientists must know by now their teleportation equipment had been accidentally used, he was also worried in case they checked their CCTV and spotted his face, worked out where he was, who he was.

His uncle's ready warm smile that had soothed his nerves over the years more times than he could count, particularly after he'd endured yet another miserable day at school. "What kept you, boyo?" Ben asked.

Peter smiled back, once more put at ease by his uncle. "Oh, a long bus journey," he replied before he said quickly. "Anyway, what's for dinner?"

"Meatloaf, with mashed potatoes, green beans, peas and gravy," Ben replied before he lowered his voice and spoke again in a whisper. "How was Mary Jane?"

Peter's smile faded, and his earlier bad mood returned at the mention of the girl he'd thought he'd fancied but now wanted nothing to do with. "I don't know and frankly I don't care."

Ben's conspiratorial smile disappeared like his nephews, replaced by fresh concern. "Why, what happened?" he demanded to know.

Peter sighed. "Flash crushed my glasses under his boot, and Mary Jane told him not to bother with me, calling me a geek and that I was not worth it," he said truthfully.

Ben's expression darkened, but Peter quickly stopped him, knowing that his uncle would probably get himself hurt if he went around to either the Thompsons or the Watsons. Personally, Peter didn't really want to dwell on the matter, and he said as much, "It doesn't matter anymore. I've spent most of the day thinking that maybe I should stop fantasising about something that's never going to come true."

Ben still didn't look happy, but he quickly changed the subject though the look in his eyes told Peter that the matter was not over. Peter wasn't surprised. For a long time both his aunt and uncle, the only family whom he had known since his parents had died, had tried very hard to make Peter come out of his shell, make friends and have a girlfriend. They had known Peter had a thing for Mary Jane Watson, who was their neighbour, and her aunt was one of Aunt May's dearest friends, and at first they had been thrilled that at last he had a thing for a girl, but it wasn't long before they realised their nephew was too shy to take the initiative.

A few years ago, they had hinted they might try to push him and Mary Jane together, but personally Peter didn't see that happening now.

He wanted nothing to do with the girl, not after what she had said today at the lab, and if his aunt or uncle tried anything over the next few months or even years, he would just find something else to do, so if his aunt set up a date between him and Mary Jane he would probably stand her up. It wasn't in his nature to be so nasty, but truthfully he didn't care one way or the other.

If she wanted to date brainless jocks or something else like that over the years, then she could. It was her right.

When the Parkers sat down for dinner, it was not long before May learnt what had happened. To say the look of horror and pity in her eyes didn't make Peter wish it was a dream would be an understatement.

If he was honest with himself, it was a relief he didn't have to try to impress anyone like her anymore. Now he could just focus on his life.

One good thing did come out of dinner. Well, two things. Firstly, it made him soothe his hunger, though he had needed to control himself; when he saw his meal he had lost control, and he had nearly torn the plate apart to eat all there was on the plate. It had taken a stunned Ben and May to point it out to him before he controlled himself, though it was difficult for him to regain his control of his new-found feeding habits.

The second and most important thing was how dinner put his mind off of his new-found self. When Peter had been younger, he had watched The Fly with Jeff Goldblum and he had watched as his character mutated into a human/fly hybrid. The dinner stopped him wondering if he was going to physically change until he became a human/leopard hybrid.

His mind was full of images of himself growing a leopards' tail before his skin broke off like it was the chrysalis of a butterfly cocoon, revealing a new kind of creature. One with a giant cat's head, a tail, clawed hands and feet with fur growing all over his body.

After dinner, he had stayed with his uncle and aunt for a while as they watched television. He grabbed his laptop from upstairs and he unlocked it and he began surfing the net for information about leopards in general.

When it was time for bed, Peter got undressed and checked himself over thoroughly, his mind awash with knowledge about the big cat, but he couldn't see any sign of further mutation. Fully aware leopards were highly agile and strong, Peter closed his eyes and he moved his body into position to perform a handstand. Peter had never been good at gymnastics. He had no actual strength to speak of. His reflexes were virtually non-existent, and whenever he'd tried to perform the simplest gymnastic movement, he usually found himself lying on the ground with his body sore.

But when Peter opened his eyes, he was surprised when he found that he wasn't just standing on his head, he was balancing himself on the footboard of his bed! A slow smile rapidly grew over Peters' face as he decided to experiment with his new-found agility and he shifted his grip so he was holding himself up on the footboard with only his index fingers on both hands!

Peter took deep breaths, fully expecting his new abilities to fail so then his fingers would collapse under the weight of his body and he would collapse on a painful journey to the floor, following a nasty gash from the bed. But nothing happened. Despite his fears, Peter was able to remain in his current position for a good few minutes before he leapt backwards, somehow he managed to land on the floor gently without making a sound. But he didn't remain in the same place for long before he performed a backflip that was flawless.

Awed by the experience he performed another backflip and received the same result as before, and not once did he make any noise that would have alerted his uncle and aunt something was going on in his bedroom, and the last thing he wanted was to cope with unwanted questions. As he got ready for bed, Peter walked past the mirror mounted to his bedroom wardrobe and he stopped and looked back when he saw something odd.

He walked in front of the mirror a few times before he was one-hundred percent sure.

His walk was different.

It was as though he was a hunter looking for his prey, but as he walked he could feel his body vibrate with energy, and though he didn't collapse his legs felt more limber, like they were made from rubber. Walking around the room, he found he had a new coordination. He also found that he moved slowly, much like a cat. Peter had seen cats walking around, hunting in the different gardens or around the streets. He had seen they moved slowly and deliberately and now it looked like he moved in the same way.

Peter walked in front of his mirror again before he performed a backflip, his eyes briefly but quickly scanning the floor of the bedroom so when he landed he deftly avoided the few books strewn on the floor. Well, he already knew he was more agile and far stronger than he had been earlier. His body was throbbing even now.

Getting into bed and turning off the light, he wondered what was going to happen in the morning. Wonder disappeared and was replaced with dread as his fears of The Fly and that something similar was around the corner for him returned. Lying on his back, Peter closed his eyes and tried to recall what exactly happened to Seth Brundle - sure, he knew it was a science-fiction horror movie, but from what he'd experienced especially after reading that computer screen he was now partly a leopard - and he remembered there were personality changes, a growing shift from humanity only for it to be replaced by animal instinct.

Seth had become arrogant, violent, he had tried to force Ronnie who'd been played by Geena Davis to undergo teleportation like himself because he had believed he had been purified by the process, unaware of the truth at the time. He had injured a man in an arm-wrestling match, causing a compound fracture.

When he had discovered what had happened, his fingernails falling off, he had learnt the truth. He had begun to look less and less human in appearance and he had lost more body parts (that bit where his ear had come off had been disgusting even if Peter had known it was special effects) before he'd started vomiting over food to break it down. Along the way Seth had begun to lose his human compassion and reason while his mind was driven by primitive impulses and instincts he couldn't control or understand before the last part of the film where Ronnie tore off that part of Seths' face, and then the fly appeared; the skin on Seths' legs tore off and the bones snapped forward while the rest of his skin broke away like a cocoon revealing a giant insect.

But it was not just The Fly which dealt with genetic fusion using teleportation. Peter had watched a TMNT episode where the turtles' friend April O Neil accidentally stepped onto a teleportation machine and her genetic structure was mixed with that of a cat. In a similar way to Seth, Aprils' body began to mutate, only in a less disgusting and gory manner. But April had undergone a similar mental transformation to Seth. She began lapping milk from a saucer placed on the floor, and she'd become more aggressive and outright hostile to that idiot Vernon, and her friend had noticed her behaviour. Over the course of the episode, she became less and less human and more and more like a cat.

Was something similar going to happen to him?

How much was 40% leopard DNA anyway? What sort of effect would it have on him? Would he begin to mutate, would he see his face transform like that guy in An American Werewolf in London? Would his mind begin to lose his human reasoning and would he become more and more like a leopard in temperament?

Would 40% be enough to do that to him?

Peter just wished he knew enough about the experiments carried out in those labs over at Oscorp. He also wondered what kind of work they'd done on that alien technology. His life could depend on it.

* * *

The next morning Peter woke up as normal, only today he felt that newfound strength was still present. As he got up, his nose and his other senses were assaulted. He could smell the musk on the bed, he could pick up on other smells around the room, and as he sat up slowly while remembering what had happened to him the day before and his fears from last night, Peter's eyes caught sight of a fly.

He followed the black dot as the bug flew around the room, but his eyes traced it's movements as it buzzed around his bedroom. Absently Peter shifted his position on the bed, and when he was ready, he leapt off of his bed much to his surprise, and he leapt across the room and squashed the fly between his hands.

Peter gasped at what he had just done, and he looked into the palm of his hand and he saw the squashed remains of the fly right there before he stood up straight, looking at the dead fly. What he had just done… it was so instinctive, so sudden and he had done it all without a thought.

Quickly Peter shook his head, his mind already making the decision to write a diary about the changes he was going through. Yes, a diary was just the thing he needed to do; it would help him organise his thoughts and by writing down and making notes about the changes to his personality and to his body, if there were any, he would be able to form a plan on what to do next.

He was just finished making up his mind when he heard his aunt calling from downstairs. "Peter! Are you up yet? It's nearly time for school!"

Peter smiled at the exasperation in his aunts' voice. She and Uncle Ben had become more used to his slowness over the last few years. "I'll be down in a few minutes!" he called down while he went to his wardrobe and selected some clothes for the day. In the end, he chose a simple dark blue long-sleeved button-up shirt and his usual jeans before putting on a pair of white socks. As he sat on the bed, he paused when he looked deeply at his toes.

There was some kind of….. of a slit in the centre of his toes, and he poked one of them experimentally as he examined it.

It wasn't a cut, and when he used his thumb and the index finger on his left hand to examine it more closely, Peter could see there wasn't any blood. It just looked almost natural, though he knew it wasn't. The slit was barely noticeable, the only reason he'd been able to see it was because he'd been looking closely.

"Peter!" Aunt May was getting impatient.

Realising he was wasting time since it was too early to do a more in-depth physical examination of himself, Peter hurried with the socks and rushed downstairs. When he got to the kitchen to grab his breakfast, he scoffed it down quickly while keeping an eye on the clock on the wall. The bus wouldn't be around for another ten minutes, so that gave him some time.

"Sorry, Aunt May," he apologised sincerely when he finished.

Aunt May smiled kindly at him. "It's okay dear," she said, "just keep an eye on the time in future, yeah?"

Peter smiled at the woman who had been the only mother figure in his life (he still had questions about what had happened to his parents, but his aunt and uncle were unusually tight-lipped about that subject, but he had always promised himself to learn more about them later on) and he carried on eating, keeping a tighter rein over himself than he had last night.

Remarkably he managed to reach the bus stop without any problems and the bus had not yet arrived yet since Mary Jane was just ahead of him. Peter sighed under his breath as he realised that he would need to stand close to her so then he didn't miss the bus. Again. He didn't particularly want to stand next to her after what she had said the day before at Oscorp, but Mary Jane never really spoke to him anyway so he didn't have to worry.

Mary Jane noticed him as he walked towards her, but she looked openly upset for some reason when he refused to stand near her, but close by so then he wouldn't be left behind.

Peter barely noticed. He had enough on his mind as it was. He didn't have time to think about what was on the girls' mind. He was curious about those weird slits on the soles of his toes. They were too natural in appearance to be just idle cuts, and they looked more like they were meant to hold something safe and secure…..

"Peter? Peter! Hello, can you hear me?"

Peter snapped out of his thoughts, and he groaned in annoyance when he realised that the bus had pulled up. Mary Jane was standing at the top right next to the driver, who was glaring down at where he was standing with contempt. Cursing the driver and his own stupidity, Peter walked onto the bus, ready to start yet another boring, miserable day at school. He liked learning, but he hated Midtown High.

He swore if he ever had children he would never send them to this dump.

* * *

Until next time.

A/N - I couldn't resist adding those bits about that TMNT episode "The Catwoman from Channel Six" and "The Fly" starring Jeff Goldblum. Those episodes, although fictional, will be all that Peter can think about as the weeks pass and he keeps an eye on himself to make sure he doesn't mutate further. But what he will do if he does, and what will happen if he doesn't transform into a human leopard, who can say?


	3. Chapter 3 The Birth of the Green Goblin

Merry Christmas. I hope you enjoy this little double-bill I've written for all of you as a Christmas present.

I don't own Spider-Man or the characters. Please leave feedback, it's greatly appreciated.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter stood outside the abandoned house, gazing at the crumbling brickwork. The place had been empty for years, though Peter genuinely didn't care less what the history of the place was. He didn't know why the house had been abandoned and why it had been gutted, but it made no difference. It was perfect for his purposes.

He had endured another day at Midtown High, but thanks to his new abilities, Peter was able to avoid the worse of any potential pranks and anymore bullying whereas in the past each moment at the school was like being inside a harsh jungle where he would be likely to be attacked by a predator.

But now he was a predator, and he was amazed by how aware he was of his own environment whereas before he had been as closed off to it in the past.

Peter was surprised when he had likened himself to a predator, but it was true. He began to see himself as a predator, and he made a mental note to record this in the diary he planned to set up to detail what was happening to him.

Flash and the other bullies had tried to bully him, but he had managed to avoid them. It had crossed his mind to lash out at Flash, but he had resisted the urge to do just that. He was sure he had inherited many of the leopards' traits - speed, agility, strength, reflexes, but he still had no idea how much of his mind had been affected. The last thing he wanted to was to draw attention to himself and cause problems for himself further down the line. Everyone at school saw him as a geeky wuss who wouldn't say boo to a goose, the last thing he wanted was to injure Flash and land the neanderthal in hospital or something, but what really frightened the teenager was what would happen to his mind if he was pushed.

He was already seeing himself as a predator, and he had caught himself looking at Flash like he wanted nothing more than to injure the bastard badly for everything he had done. As he stood outside the abandoned house, Peter reflected on the rest of the day he'd had. He was just lucky he didn't have a gym class or anything to do with physical fitness. In the past those lessons had been his own personal idea of hell; him, dressed in a t-shirt and shorts that no matter what didn't seem to fit him as they should, trying desperately to do the work while all the time struggling to run more than a few feet before his heart and lungs felt like he was about to collapse panting and wheezing while everyone around him laughed their heads off.

Peter pushed that aside as he looked up at the building. He had dumped his stuff at home and he'd come out here to this place in order to see what he could do with his new abilities so he could begin to experiment. Everything that happened here would shape his life for years to come. Taking a deep breath, Peter rushed towards the fence, wondering if the new-found agility worked just as well as it did before…. And he leapt over the fence, landing on the ground with his hands pushing down the overgrown grass in the same position an ordinary cat would find itself.

Standing up, Peter walked slowly up to the boarded-up backdoor. Placing a hand on one of the thick boards nailed to the door frame, Peter pushed down hard, and the board was split in two! It was enough to go through the remaining boards though one was still nailed to the doorframe. Peter lifted his foot and kicked it, splitting the wood just once, and reducing the plank into splinters.

Walking inside the house, Peter flinched. The stench inside was just awful, really, really bad. The walls were black with damp and the smell made his newly enhanced nose recoil, but it was mixed with a number of other scents Peter could not yet identify. As he stood in the gutted house, looking for anything he could use to test his abilities, Peter made the decision to just begin the tests here and then get out, maybe even venture over to the rail yard or something where there was a supply of materials there which could him gauge his new strength.

As he explored the house, looking to find something, anything, which could help him, Peter noticed just how barren the house was. The stairs leading upwards were falling apart. There were signs everywhere in the house there was a fire which had gutted the place - that made sense, but the years of the inside of the house being exposed to the elements had reduced what was left of the stairway to a set of rotten wooden planks.

Peter looked up and saw the balcony on the upper storey and he crouched down and leapt upwards, deftly catching the upper rail relieved to find it was made from metal and he swung himself onto the balcony, over the rotten wooden rail with elastic agility that would make any gymnast weep with envy.

The floorboards creaked under his weight, but Peter ignored it for the time being as he explored the rest of the upper storey. There were a few items left over from the original tenants, but they weren't good enough for his purposes. He walked into the bathroom and he checked the bathtub and the toilet and the sink. The sink itself was one of those old ceramic things that were incredibly heavy. Peter smiled and he walked over to it, and he ran his fingers over the ceramic finish before he slowly took hold of the edges. Once he'd taken a firm grip, Peter slowly started to pull before he decided to just get it over with, and he ripped the sink off of its housing. Residual water leaked and dripped from the tear, but Peter ignored the water, guessing it was just a collection from when the sink was last used or if it had just collected water over the years from all the rain or something.

Peter paid it no attention. He just lifted the sink and held it in both of his hands. If he had not been put through the teleport with the leopard there was no doubt in his mind he would not have been able to lift this thing up. But now he was able to lift the sink up with ease, and he took it to the landing.

Peter threw the sink over the railing and he threw it over the edge.

It landed on the ground with a crash. Some of the sink was smashed on the ground, but it was too strong to completely shatter. Peter looked down at the ground, taking in the white-grey chips, and he couldn't help but feel disappointed the test hadn't been as good as he'd hoped it would turn out to be.

Peter blew out a breath before he leapt over the rail and landed on the ground, and he continued his search of the place to see if there was anything else here he could use to his advantage.

* * *

Norman Osborn, CEO of Oscorp Industries, was under a lot of pressure and he was angry, not to mention embarrassed when he discovered that not only was a delegation from the US military in one of his testing sites, but they had been at the site for over half an hour already. Osborn immediately headed for the laboratory where the US military's precious super soldier contract was being studied and developed, and he paused with an angry growl as he spotted Dr Stromm speaking with the lead figure, General Slocum.

Blustering, dressed in the dark forest green uniform decorated with stars and medals, Slocum was a typical US soldier complete with a severe military style haircut he still maintained even if his hairline was receding. Slocum was surrounded by similarly dressed US officials, and Osborn could not help but notice that many of them didn't look impressed with whatever Stromm was telling them. Osborn growled under his breath as he wondered just what the old fool was telling them. Why was it difficult for Stromm to realise Slocum was deliberately probing the super-soldier program to find out if it was kosher? Why couldn't the idiot see he was making a big mistake by opening his mouth?

Unfortunately, Slocum was not like his predecessor. General McIntee had been a reasonable man, and Osborn had told him a dozen times over to give him time to develop the technology behind the program. Osborn and his organisation and the scientists that worked for him on this particular project had been hired to find an answer to Tony Stark's Iron Man armour, something that was both practical and superior at the same time since Stark simply refused to hand over his knowledge, so the US had decided to give the project to a number of other industries their military was attached to as part of the defence contracts.

Osborn knew his project was not unique. There were others, but thankfully his spies in various companies said they were having pretty much the same problems Oscorp itself was having with this one. McIntee had known that, but the US government was not happy with the lack of progress with any of the projects on the board. But it seemed McIntee was too reasonable, though Osborn didn't know all of the details. All he knew was he had Slocum on his back. The general treated him like a sergeant major treated a common soldier who had just recently enlisted, and Osborn didn't like that. He had guided his company for years through numerous highs and lows over the course of his career. He had given a great deal to the US military and to his government, yet he was being treated like a retarded soldier by Slocum.

Osborn walked slowly towards the general and to his entourage, hoping his anger was not apparent; a bad mood would not impress Slocum, though truthfully Osborn was starting to simply not care about the arrogant soldiers' views. Osborn tragically needed the fool in order to stall the government so he could continue with his researches. It wasn't his fault the US government had piled all the research and development contracts on his company since that mess in New York a few years ago, any more than it was on others. They seemed to believe studying alien technology was all about taking it apart, figuring out what one piece at a time did, and then conducting experiments for how it could benefit America rather than the whole world so then they could continue lording it over the planet with their arrogant superiority.

Osborn was a patriot, but he was too smart to not be blinded by the arrogance that stated America must always be trying to make little versions of their own country. He himself had seen on so many occasions how his own countrymen caused problems in countries which were none of their business, and to be honest, that kind of arrogance spread to how they constantly breathed down the necks of their researchers who were trying to make things work. Look at Latveria. How many times in the past few years had Doctor Doom himself pleaded with America to stop meddling in his countries affairs? How many times had SHIELD and the Fantastic Four poked and prodded in Dooms' work all because they believed Doom was an evil dictator? In truth, Osborn knew the true story was not the same old "black and white, all it takes is a few good men" line the government used to paint Doom as a bad guy. In truth, Doom was actually more interested in ensuring his small country was well fed and watered. He had brought in builders from other countries to build schools while he tried to find parts of the country which could be opened up to tourists to bring in trade, but thanks to American meddling it hadn't gone too far. Was it any wonder Doctor Doom lashed out?

Slocum was just another depressing reason why Osborn had become cynical about working with the government. At first working for the US government had been fun. He had supplied them with weapons, brought in the top minds in order to develop weaponry so then Oscorp was on the near top of the ladder of industries which supplied the military with the weapons they needed. Norman had worked long and hard to ensure he had a niche, but unfortunately, he had fallen into a trap.

Like Stark, Hammer, and a number of other industrialists, whenever the military wanted something new, some new war machine, some new weapon, some new type of armour, they came straight to him. After that it was a case of win some, lose some. The government always applied a vast amount of pressure to make sure he gave them what they wanted, but sometimes it didn't happen whereas for his competitors it was easy for them to do and they won the contracts.

That was why Osborn had begun to rely on good old-fashioned industrial espionage in order to gain some degree of leverage over his competitors. In the past, Osborn had baulked at using spies unless as a last resort, though he had never done it on a large scale before since it caused more problems than he could afford. But for the last few years, Osborn had needed to fight dirtier and harder than he had in the past in order to remain on top. Matters were helped when Iron Man appeared when Tony Stark had touched god, and he'd started being a hero. Osborn had never liked Stark. He'd always believed the man to be too much of a playboy to be a serious businessman despite his extraordinary engineering and scientific skill, and he liked the man even less.

It was because of Stark the US military was determined to get on top. Stark had devised a unique body armour that enabled him to fly, to attack and defend. Was it any wonder the US wanted the technology for themselves? Unfortunately Stark refused, and so the US decided that if it couldn't have the original, then someone else could develop a technology that was similar and yet different.

Osborn was not the only industrialist working on the program. The US government had been generous in this case. They had created a kind of competition for the industrialists in order to see what their pawns could do.

In the laboratory, Norman could see the full extent of his work.

The laboratory was large. It was built into an underground bunker designed for maximum space. Dominating the room was a massive circle, overlooked by an inner control room where scientists and technicians could monitor the experiments taking place, and inside the circle was the Wing.

The Wing, as it was called, was Norman Osborn's pride and joy. It was inspired after he had worked out for himself he couldn't duplicate Starks' flight technology, not without proper study which the government refused to allow, so he'd been depressed and took a brief break. During that time he caught himself watching something over his sons' shoulder, not that Harry knew it at the time. Harry had been watching a surfer clip on Youtube. Watching the way the surfers balanced themselves on their surfboards as they rode the waves, it had inspired him and since he was not going to get too far with the effortless way Stark flew, he decided to use something different.

The Wing was the result of three years of development, as was the battle-suit. The Wing was essentially a glider, using a combination of simple air technology and electromagnetism to allow the operator to fly while wearing a suit that would allow the soldier to control it with his mind. It was a cybernetic dream, but while it sounded easy it had taken a lot of time and research in order to develop it to this level. Osborn watched as the current operator stood on top of the glider and flew it slowly around the room, the engine humming like a living thing throbbing with power.

"We've solved the balancing issues and we've modified the suit's cybernetic headset to allow greater control," Stromm said to Slocum while Norman walked closer so then he could confront Slocum, already mentally preparing himself for the worse.

"I've already seen the glider," Slocum said, "it's not why I'm here."

Osborn sighed. The performance enhancers. The bastard was here to find out what was going on with the enhancers. The battle suit was a cybernetic wonder that allowed the soldiers to fly as the next breed of soldier, but the suit's ability to increase human strength was shockingly limited. By itself, the suit was able to double the strength of an ordinary human, but the US government quickly changed its mind after they'd said it was a good thing.

They wanted a soldier who was super strong. Iron Man strong, preferably. But strong enough to overpower any enemy. Norman knew the government wanted contingencies in place should the Avengers or any other super-powered individual went out of control, to do that they needed a soldier who was exceptionally powerful.

Unfortunately, the battle-suit was a trap. In order to make it capable of controlling the glider, they'd had to sacrifice many of the cybernetic systems which would have allowed the soldier to be capable enough of combating Captain America. The immediate solution while R&D worked on developing a battle-suit design after the prototype which could control the suit and yet allow the wearer to be incredibly strong. The immediate solution was to use a kind of performance enhancer while R&D worked on producing a suit that allowed both super strength and flexibility when using the glider.

The only problem was for this experiment to work a new type of performance enhancer had needed to be developed, and it was not easy to do since this type of enhancer worked in two ways. The first was it affected the serotonin levels in the brain to give the user confidence in their own abilities while the second way enhanced human speed and power.

Slocum wanted both parts of the super-soldier project to be brought together so he could present it to the government.

Well, he was going to be disappointed.

"General Slocum, I had no idea that you were here," Osborn greeted the general, announcing his presence while he ignored the members of his own board; it was rude and not good business procedure, but he didn't care. They had not told him they were coming with the general, and if he had to hazard a guess, they had deliberately kept it from him. He wasn't about to waste politeness on them today.

Slocum turned his unimpressed face towards Osborn. "I want to see the progress report on the human performance enhancement project," he said without preamble. Norman cursed, knowing only too well Slocum was not going to like the results of the tests.

Unfortunately, Stromm seemed to be oblivious to the danger. The stupid old man opened his mouth and began babbling. "We used vapour inhalation on one ground rodent subjects, and they showed an eighty per cent increase in strength and intelligence. Another group simply had it injected into their bodies, and they showed a similar increase in strength. Up to about seventy-five perfect."

Slocum grunted grudgingly. "That doesn't sound too bad, but why did the vapour inhalation work more effectively on the rats and mice than injection?"

Osborn cut in before Stromm could do any unintentional damage. "We believe the formula works better in a gaseous state, though we're still a long way off from figuring out why," he answered.

Slocum gave a gruff sarcastic chuckle. "Why am I not surprised?" he sneered at Norman.

It was impossible for Norman Osborn to take that and not react badly, but he managed to stop himself unleashing hell on this arrogant, blustering, swaggering dictator with delusions of grandeur, but only just.

But Slocum turned to Stromm when he saw the scientist was easier to speak with than Osborn. "Were there any side-effects, vomiting, sweating, things like that?"

Once again Osborn groaned and wished Stromm didn't have such a big mouth. "Yes, in one group, the subjects-," the scientist began, but Norman quickly interrupted since he knew that nothing good would come from Stromms' report. "But only one group, General. In the other tests, the enhancers were successful, with increases in strength, durability, endurance and intellect."

Slocum sighed and turned to Stromm, deliberately ignoring Osborn. "Go on," he instructed.

Stromm suddenly hesitated and looked at Norman when he suddenly realised for himself the way the wind was blowing, but the industrialist glared back furiously at his old friend, furious with him. You did this, you old fool! Osborn hoped his glare was relaying, not caring anymore about what Stromm through about him. Now you can pay the price!

He wasn't going to help.

"Well, doctor?" Slocum prodded when he became impatient as he glanced at the elderly scientist. "In the trial that went wrong what happened? What were the side-effects of the experiment? If we're to accept the performance enhancers on delivery, the last thing we want is to tell the soldiers' families they were killed by some chemical that caused their deaths which we could not screen out."

Stromm licked his lips when he realised he was now alone. "The rodents were driven insane," he confessed, "they became violent, aggressive. In the end, they tore each other apart."

Norman looked down at his feet, cursing Stromm for being so stupid but unfortunately even he had to admit to himself it was only a matter of time before Slocum discovered that little side-effect of the performance enhancers. Either one of the board members said something or one of the scientists who were too interested in other things to really check their words, but sooner or later it would be found out.

Slocum turned his unimpressed visage in Osborns' direction, seeing for himself the industrialist had known about it but had not bothered to bring it to his attention. "Well Osborn, nothing clever to say?" he challenged. "What do you plan to do now?"

Osborn looked up, knowing not to expect any kind of sympathy from the almighty board members but unlike Stromm, he wasn't stupid enough to babble. "It was only one test," he said quietly, "but I should remind you of something important. I stressed strongly when I decided to use a new performance enhancer as part of the program there would be difficulties in mixing an enhancer strong enough to make the subject strong, but not strong enough to overwhelm the cybernetics of the suit."

Slocum waved a hand. "Spare me, Osborn," he said brutally, "I've heard nothing but excuses since I was assigned to supervise your work. My predecessor may have been patient, but I am not. I want results. My superiors want results."

Then maybe your superiors should come here and do the work, though with their brain capacities it would be a miracle not to wreck the place, Osborn thought to himself privately, though he wasn't suicidal enough to say it out loud. "I am aware of that, but my staff, with the exception of a few," Osborn sent a deadly look at Stromm, "are sure we can begin testing the enhancers on humans soon enough."

Slocum closed his eyes, wishing that someone else was here and not himself. He wished he was on a lower rung of the rank ladder, that way he would have simpler duties to attend to. But he wasn't. He was still here. "Dr Stromm?" he said, speaking over Osborn.

Stromm looked down himself now, realising he had dug for himself a massive pit he couldn't get out of because of his mouth. "The performance enhancers are too unstable," he said quietly, knowing as soon as this meeting was over he was going to be chewed out. "We need to take the entire line back to formula."

When Slocum walked away, visibly frustrated, Osborn snarled at Stromm. "Back to formula!?"

"I'm going to be frank now, Mr Osborn," Slocum said bluntly while Stromm recoiled, "I was never supportive of your project. I always thought you were promising far too much. We have given you so many chances to make delivery, but each time you have failed. You have also failed to deliver satisfactory results to your other genetic projects involving the teleportation and conventional methods of gene therapy."

Osborn was quiet, but inwardly he was getting angrier and angrier at Slocum's honesty. He had always guessed where the soldier's opinions laid. He had worked with the government and the soldier types too many times over the years to not be able to tell the differences between hidden interest and urgency for the project to be finished quickly and sheer disinterest.

"My predecessor gave you too much leeway, but I am not him. If you had simply kept things simple by giving us the suit and the glider without the performance enhancers, it would have been adequate even if the suit only doubles the strength of the soldier," Slocum went on.

"Don't blame it on me, General," Osborn said just as harshly as his temper began to snap, "blame your superiors. They wanted a super-soldier technology that allows them to match Iron Man since Stark refused to give his technology to anybody else even despite that mess caused by Hammer. They also wanted an equaliser in case the Avengers or anybody else as powerful as the Avengers caused problems down the line. I have done everything in my power to give it to them.

"And as for the other projects you've given to me, there have been a number of successes, but we are still trying to understand how the teleportation technology works, but we have a long way to go."

Slocum conceded the points, though he ignored the one about the genetic teleportation work since in his mind it was all the same. "True enough, we have put a lot of pressure on our industrialists to conceive of a way to make our soldiers strong enough to defend this country, but I am afraid I have neared the end of my patience with you."

Osborn frowned in surprise. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

Slocum turned to a senior member of Oscorps' board, and Norman clenched his fists angrily. He was furious with this whole mess; Slocum for doing this to him when he'd had it in mind the whole time, but he was furious with Stromm for making it easier for Slocum to get this all out in the first place. But he was furious with his board for playing into Slocums' hand. Didn't they have any kind of common sense? Didn't they have any loyalty beyond to their own wallets? Actually, he didn't know why he was bothering to ask. He knew the answer only too well.

"Norman," Mr Bowles said, "the general has already given the go-ahead to the QuestAerospace exoskeleton project. They've already had a number of successful trial runs. Their final prototype begins testing in a few weeks."

Osborn couldn't help himself. He laughed. "QuestAerospace? That exoskeleton does not make someone super-human. It is basically a stripped down fighter plane."

Slocum nodded despite the argument. "Nevertheless it works; granted, it may not be as versatile as some of the other projects out there. If your so-called performance enhancers," Slocum sneered at the term, "do not work in the next few weeks, we shall give our contract to them, and I shall pull the funding you have at the moment, and give it to them."

With that, General Slocum turned and walked away, followed by his entourage. "Ladies, gentlemen," he said, nodding at the board. Osborn turned his searing eyes to them, promising that they would all pay the price for what they'd just done.

* * *

Peter looked at the computer screen in front of him, writing down the notes he had mentally compiled since making notes on paper was too risky since anyone could find them and after that anything could happen. He wasn't worried about his uncle or aunt trying to break into his computer since he regularly changed his password in accordance to what computer geeks did, but to be honest they weren't the type to poke their noses into that extent.

As he went through the notes he'd compiled, Peter began writing slowly so then he had everything in mind. He had organised his diary in a typical diary format while he added a number list.

One thing he had made sure to add to the diary was to write down his impressions of everyone at the school and how he'd likened the atmosphere to that of a jungle where everybody else were predators themselves. But as he wrote, Peter kept in mind that his writing would be pretty dry-reading, but truthfully he didn't care since he didn't have any intention of letting anyone else read it. Storywriting was not Peters' forte. He preferred writing things down in a fairly scientific, detailed manner.

Still, it allowed him to organise his thoughts.

As he read through the notes he'd just written, Peter reflected on what he had learnt at the abandoned house. In truth, he found the whole experiment rather disappointing - there was just so little at the place there to test him, not like he'd hoped. There were no piles of junk that would take at least two people to lift, there was just an upper storey with a heavy ceramic sink for him to lift up. That was hardly a test of his new abilities.

Once he was finished writing up his notes into the diary entry, Peter switched to the internet and started looking to see if there was anything nearby he could use to test just how strong he was, but he also wanted to test his agility. The last thing he wanted to do was try it out at school. Everyone knew he was simply incapable of doing a backflip, never mind a handstand. He didn't want anyone to know what had happened to him.

But that didn't mean he couldn't break into a gym and try it out, but as he considered it he instantly disregarded it since the gym would be no different from the abandoned house. It would have more than the house, yeah, but it wouldn't be enough for him to test his agility or his strength. All of the weight lifting equipment was not designed for people with super-human strength, and he had a picture of himself trying out his speed on a treadmill and going so fast it burnt the machine out.

With that in mind, Peter searched the local area for warehouses that were either in use or had been abandoned just like the old house.

* * *

The Wing testing laboratory was in night mode but Norman Osborn was still working in the part of the laboratory where the performance enhancers were being held. As he worked at the terminal, Norman was trying to hold onto his nerve, but he was helped because of his anger and frustration and his embarrassment over what had happened earlier.

Norman hadn't bothered to lash out at Stromm after Slocum had left, and he hadn't bothered to speak to any member of the board either. As far as he was concerned, the board members were traitors who were more interested in their own wallets, but he had needed them in the past. As he typed his instructions into the computer, Norman went over what had happened after Slocum had left.

He had gone back to the office he had kept on-site - he had offices in each of his sites that enabled him to organise himself no matter where he was in his organisation - and he had brooded. Norman had stayed inside his office all day, thinking about the surprise visit from Slocum and what the arrogant bastard had said to him while the board had just stood there, and Stromm had babbled without giving a thought about discretion.

He had made sure he was unapproachable all day long.

Occasionally Norman would check on the reports of the aspects of the glider project, but he had just become numb as his mind went back to how Slocum had zeroed in like a guided missile on the performance enhancer side of the project and how Stromm had opened his big fat mouth and revealed what had happened to the rodent test subjects.

From a certain point of view, Osborn could see and even understand Slocums' desire to not drive soldiers insane on the battlefield, but the insanity was just a simple side-effect, and besides that in the other tests the insanity issue was non-existent. As he had gone over it again and again, combined with Stromms' betrayal and Slocums' arrogance and how the board members had just rolled over and allowed the soldier to just take away the funding because his own superiors wanted miracles and made demands time and time again, Osborn had snapped.

The performance enhancers worked.

He knew it.

The results were there.

The insanity factor could be worked out later without it being taken back to formula again for the fourth time running.

In the end, frustrated with the lack of results, the constant pressure and the demands from the military to do the work while they were constantly shoving things on his shoulders, the formula taken back again and again, tested again and again in order to perfect it when the basics were already perfect though the insanity was a hundred to one risk by whining crybabies like Stromm, and the betrayals all around him, Osborn had decided to make an ultimate choice.

Osborn was going to prove this super-soldier project as a success even if he had to test the performance enhancer on himself. His decision was not easy to reach, it had taken him hours to make it. But the tragic thing was if Norman had been thinking rightly, used his common sense then he would never have made that choice, but he was too tired of his lack of success with this project despite having taken it so far, to really think straight.

As he worked at the terminal, preparing the enhancement chamber and selecting a jar containing the poisonous green fluid that was the performance enhancer and slotted it into the injection unit. Once he was done, Norman reached out for the small vial containing a clear liquid like water. It was a stabiliser designed to prepare his body for the vaporisation process.

He lifted it up, about to make a toast about human potential, but he decided to just do it, and he swallowed the liquid and threw the vial down in frustration after everything he'd been put through recently, and he set the timer on the vaporisation system to activate in one minute, and he stepped into the vaporisation chamber and closed the door.

As he stood there, shivering in the cold glass and metal framed chamber, ignoring the bench with the restraints designed to hold the test subjects and stop them from lashing out in case something went wrong during the process, Norman took a number of deep breaths. He relished the feel of cold air being taken in by his lungs as he stood there, waiting for what seemed like an eternity before the first signs of the vapour appeared in the chamber.

The moment he breathed the performance enhancer into his body, he immediately began to gasp even as he remembered how the rodents being tested in the labs with the same formula had reacted in much the same way. He forced himself to calm down even as he took painful breaths before he began choking as his lungs suddenly felt as though they'd just inhaled molten lava.

Osborn was grasping his throat as his vision began to slip away and he collapsed onto the grilled metallic floor of the test chamber, panting and coughing for clean fresh untainted air before everything went dark…..

* * *

He awoke on the floor of the testing chamber. For a moment he wondered where he was before his memories returned. A feral smile crossed his features though it looked more like the kind of contorted smirk you'd expect to see on a serial killer who enjoyed his work, and even then it was full of madness.

He didn't care what he looked like as he stood up, breathing in the leftover vapour into his lungs, mentally recalling how his lungs had felt as though they'd burn even as he inhaled the vapour. But now his lungs felt as strong and as fit as they had been before, perhaps even better.

He stood up slowly, mentally noting just how he felt as he did. He felt….. powerful, stronger. He felt as if he could take on anybody in the world and win simply because of who he was.

He threw his head back and laughed. The harsh sound reverberated around the air, making it sound as though there were a million people laughing in the same manner. If anybody else had heard that laugh, they would have likened it to cackling witch. Once he finished, he calmly opened the door of the testing chamber and walked out of it. He looked around the laboratory, his eyes picking up each and every feature as if he were a newborn child looking at his mothers face for the first time ever.

It didn't take too long before his eyes picked out the sight of the glider and the battle-suit, and his eyes gleamed at the sight of it….

* * *

Author's note - The Green Goblin has just been born, but unlike in canon Peter will have little to do with him though they will be enemies though with his abilities and how the mutation might affect his brain, I don't think Peter will stand for Osborn's interference. Most of the dialogue was derived from the 2002 movie, but there are differences.


	4. Chapter 4 Mutant Freak!

The second part of my double-bill.

I hope you've enjoyed it so far. For Spider-Man fans, I'm sorry but this one will have an element that's heartbreaking. In this chapter, Peter is set on a different path.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

As he panted jogging along the sidewalk, pretending to take it easy while he was more than capable of jogging without losing much breath, Peter reflected on the last few weeks since he'd acquired his new abilities.

He wished he just had enough of an opportunity to test himself while keeping his cover. It was getting harder and harder to control what he did at school once he'd made a new breakthrough. He'd discovered this problem shortly after he'd found a warehouse which was perfect. It had more junk stockpiled inside it, a couple of old cars, and there were high beams that held the roof in place.

Peter had already tested his agility and his strength; okay he was still a long way from figuring out just how strong he was now, but he knew he was strong now, strong enough to go beyond the super-human barrier that separated the likes of people like Thor, that green-skinned thing that was being reported wandering about the country, and Iron Man, though Thor was reportedly the real Norse god and Iron Man was just a man in a super-powered exoskeleton. Truthfully there weren't that many super-powered people on the Avengers. Black Widow and even Captain America didn't count, even Cap who was only just stronger than the average human, but there were others out there who were stronger than all of them.

Agility wise, Peter was able of leaping high in the air with his new leg muscles, allowing him to leap high in the air like a proper leopard.

That particular species of big cat was well known for its habit of dragging prey into trees and keeping it out of reach of predators like other leopards or some of their other natural enemies. It didn't surprise him one little bit he was able to leap high in the air, but he had tested his new abilities as best as he could but he felt he had a long way to go. Peter had decided to approach all of this from a scientific point of view. He had begun experimenting with his abilities that were inspired by things from the net.

But Peter was still a long way from truly testing just how far his new skills went.

That was the easy part, the hard part was making sure he didn't do anything stupid like accidentally punching a hole in a locker or a wall when someone frustrated him at school. Ever since the school field trip, Peter had tried to keep his distance from the rest of his class. It was just some of the class wouldn't leave him alone as Flash and his gang kept trying to make his life a misery with their stupid pranks and their childish antics. It never failed to amaze Peter that no matter how old he grew, Flash was still mentally a five-year-old.

As he jogged home, trying his hardest to appear as a regular jogger without giving much away like how fast he actually was now, Peter thought about the way Flash and his gang had tried to corner him after football practice. They were bubbling with testosterone which they hadn't yet managed to burn off playing that stupid sport so they came after him, or rather they tried too. After seeing them, Peter had no choice but to flee from them, and he had managed to dodge them by ducking into a corner and leaping onto the roof and remaining there hidden until they'd left.

But while he was running away from them, a part of his mind was screaming for him to turn around, to stand his ground and tear them to pieces. Peter had to admit it had been tempting, but he had managed to gain some control, but he did hope that it was a part of him and not the big cat that was now inside of him.

He had made a note of the incident when he'd gotten home, but the fact remained that until graduation came around he would still have to contend with a bunch of neanderthals at school.

To this day Peter still had no idea why on Earth he was being targeted like that, but at the moment he didn't care. All he wanted was to just get through the remainder of his time at Midtown High, go into college, and become a scientist and do something with himself rather than constantly lie inside Flash Thompsons' shadow.

The thought of making a discovery that put him out there among the likes of Einstein, Galileo, Pasteur, Faraday and Hawking made him feel better about himself though he wanted to make discoveries than make a quick buck. Still, it would be satisfying; a scientific discovery was perpetual, whereas a football player, while loved and admired during their career, had victories that ended up joining those played by other players. One day Flash would be another nearly forgotten player, and that was the sweetest revenge of them all.

But what really frightened Peter the most was the fact every time he thought of Flash, a part of him wanted nothing more than to literally murder the other teenager. And as time passed, that part of him grew stronger and stronger until now he was convinced the mutation had reached his brain, though he hoped nothing serious happened.

It was just worrying that he no longer really seemed to care about hiding whatever changes to his personality there were now, and he had noticed quite a few of the girls whom he had once crushed on and yet hadn't received anything in return except contempt now seemed determined to flock to him all of a sudden. One of them was Liz Allen, but since the girl was one of those people who had scorned him and put him down, well it hadn't been difficult for Peter to ignore her. Something that made Flash jealous. Why Peter didn't know since he wasn't interested in Liz.

It was impossible to think about Flash and not think about Mary Jane Watson.

Peter had noticed a new found confidence in himself that he had hadn't had before, and he was sure it came from being genetically bonded to a leopard. It seemed things were genetic as leopards, like all domestic cats really, didn't seem to be bothered about things like keeping themselves to themselves.

He didn't really care much about Sally Avril or Liz Allen despite trying time and again asking them out on dates with him in the past, but their constant refusal had done more to dent his confidence before the incident at Oscorp, but it hadn't been until recently since Mary Janes' nasty remark on the trip he decided he couldn't do it anymore.

Mary Jane, Sally, Liz. All three girls were no longer on his radar though it would be hard for him to avoid Mary Jane since she was his neighbour and he saw her nearly every day, saw her constantly smile while wearing immaculate but amazing clothes that had allowed her to fit into the In Crowd without too much trouble though he knew things were not rosy at her home. Mary Jane's remark had done more to harm Peter than he'd expected. He now wanted nothing to do with those girls.

He knew what she was going to do at college, of course, everyone knew she was planning on becoming an actress, something that had never really interested him though he had cried like a little kid whenever he had seen her plays.

But now it didn't really matter since he was going to college to study science and computing and he would probably never really see her, but it didn't hurt as much as it had in the past as Peters' new leopard nature made him just mentally shrug his shoulders and pull away. It was worrying but ever since that incident at Oscorp he'd found himself pulling away from a great deal.

Tragically it was happening at home as well as at school; Peter was now finding himself pulling away from his aunt and uncle a little, but not so much. He was still trying to spend some time with them both while trying to figure out what he was going to do with himself. Fortunately his uncle managed to reassure his worried aunt he was just growing up, and as a result Uncle Ben (god bless him) had taken the news he was planning on jogging into his stride as just one of those things. Yet somehow Peter had the impression Uncle Ben was actually pleased he had a new interest instead of just his conventional hobbies. The only thing that surprised both of his guardians was how long Peter was out at around this time - another reason his aunt fretted since she expected him to be attacked in Queens. He was usually out here for a long while he jogged around the neighbourhood, but his guardians were wrong. He wasn't just doing this to see how fast he was, but he was doing this so then he could test his speed from time to time.

Now Peter was heading home after jogging around the block, thankful the hoodie he was wearing was covering his face so if anyone from school actually saw him they wouldn't have a clue about who he was. He didn't want anyone at school to spread rumours about him jogging, he had no idea what kind of attention would be fixed on him, and frankly, he didn't want it to happen.

He had just started back when his ears picked up a distant scream. It was quite far off, but he had managed to pick it up. Peter turned in the direction the scream was coming from, his pace increasing with every second before he came across a scene that made him pause.

A woman with a child was being cornered by a pair of thugs, one of them had already grabbed the young woman's purse but she was holding onto the strap and trying to tug it away from them while the other was groping her while he had a hand wrapped around the thin wrist of the child who was screaming in pain and fear while his mother tried hard to make her attackers let him go.

Peter didn't need to think about what he was going to do next. The teenager was about to break into a run when he realised that although the hoodie he was wearing covered his head, his face was still exposed. Peter reached into the pocket where the scarf he had removed from his neck was kept.

Aunt May had fretted so much about him jogging she had made sure he was dressed up warmly even on nights when it wasn't cold and he wore a scarf. Peter had taken the scarf off just as soon as he had turned the corner and shoved it into his pocket. But now he wrapped it as tightly as he could around his neck and face so then it hid his face. Once he was finished, Peter rushed towards the muggers, heading for the one whose hand was wrapped around the little boy's wrist.

Peter hit the thug in the chest with the force of speeding train while reaching out grabbing his wrist holding the boy, crushing the brawny wrist like it was a biscuit. The thug screamed in agony and let go of the boy, but Peter snapped the thugs' upper arm. The thug collapsed to the ground, wheezing from the pain and cradling his broken arm in his one good arm. The other thug turned in disbelief.

"Wha-?" he was about to say, but he didn't have time to react before Peter picked up and threw the whimpering mugger off of the ground towards him, but his friend stepped aside when he realised what was happening. With a growl, Peter faced the street thug who was still standing. But the street thug took out a flick-knife and tried to throw it at Peter, but the teenager managed to dodge it once or twice. It slashed his hand.

Peter took a step back even as the thug grinned in triumph as he looked at the wound in surprise.

That grin disappeared when Peter let out a furious angry howl that instantly had mother and son cling to one another in shock. Peter charged the thug and instantly began to beat him up, sounding very much like a wounded angry animal as he methodically beat the life out of the thug. The thug was lying on the concrete, choking as the blows to his chest and head made blood leak from his mouth as one of Peters' blows dislocated his jaw and had the side-effect of slicing open his tongue.

The animal side of Peter was enjoying what he was doing and he brought his hand back, seeing his claws extend out of their sheaths, and he pulled them back further as if readying himself like he was about to enjoy what he was about to do, but something stopped him from actually killing the mugger right there and then. Or rather a little voice filled with panic and terror broke the air that stopped him.

"Mummy! Let's get outta here 'fore the monster gets us!" It was the little boy, who was clinging to his mother in terror.

Peter stopped and let the anger fade away before he slowly turned his head around to look at the boy and his mother. The moment they saw his attention turned to them, the woman stiffened and clung protectively to her child. "K-keep away from us!" the woman cried out.

 _They're afraid of me, of what I'll do to them_ , Peter thought to himself as the leopard half of his allowed the human side to re-emerge and take control once more.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Peter said, hoping that the scarf muffled the sound of his voice so then they wouldn't remember it well. "I came here to help you-"

"Liar," the woman whimpered quietly as if terrified he would lose it with her for even speaking back to him. "Y-you're one of them, aren't you?"

"One of what?' Peter asked in confusion.

"One of those filthy mutant freaks, that's what!" the woman became hysterical even as she bent down and recovered her purse from the ground and backing away from him with her son. "Stay away from us! K-keep back!"

Peter was about to respond to that even if his mind reeled at being called a "mutant freak" as he realised the woman was just as indoctrinated with all the anti-mutant propaganda spread around by those groups like Friends of Humanity and those fear mongers like Senator Kelly when the child spoke.

"M-mummy, keep the….the mutant freak away from me!" the little boy said, looking at Peter as if he was trying to avoid catching a cold from a kid at school. "I-I don't wanna be a mutant!"

Peter was sickened by the child's words like he believed he would become a mutant just by being in the presence of one. Peter looked at the woman and the boy, thankful neither of them could see his features with the hoodie and the scarf hiding them. Unable to hide his disgust from them, Peter decided to just leave. He was about to leave when he remembered the flick-knife. It had some of his blood on it, and he didn't doubt for a second the woman wouldn't call for the police to come here and deal with the problem. The last thing he wanted was to make it easier for them to catch him. Peter grabbed the knife and turned and ran off.

"MUTANT FREAK!" The woman spewed out hatefully as he ran off.

* * *

Do you see Peter becoming a hero now?


	5. Chapter 5 Aftermath and a New Job

Disclaimer - As always I only own this story, not Spider-Man.

To those of you who wonder if Peter is going to be a vigilante, he won't. I have different plans in mind for Peter. Secondly, pairings - I wasn't thinking of giving him a girlfriend.

Well, not at the moment.

Pkease feel free to leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

To Peter's upset, his top had been splattered lightly with blood from his sight with those muggers he'd encountered the night before. Afraid of his Aunt May finding the hoodie and the blood splattered on it which would lead to a whole host of questions he truly did not want to answer, Peter hid the hoodie in a plastic bag and folded it up neatly in his backpack so he could take it to school and then get it washed in a launderette that wasn't far from the school itself. Getting away was not difficult.

The sooner he got it done, the better. Word of the attack last night had already reached the Daily Bugle and a host of other newspapers. Unsurprisingly, thanks to the woman's anti-mutant ranting, many people in Queens were afraid of going out at night in case the mutant attacked them, but it was fuelled by the never-ending propaganda about how mutants were uncontrollable, and that it was "lucky there weren't that many mutants." Someone actually wrote that, and Peter was both surprised and amazed by the naivety, there was so much evidence out there mutants were far more common but he would let them believe their own stupid myths.

The obvious downsides to this whole mess were it meant the police were out patrolling the neighbourhood a bit more than usual, so it cut down crime to virtually nothing because the sight of the cop patrol cars was enough to scare drug dealers and burglars away. But it helped reassure the public the NYPD were taking it seriously, but truthfully Peter was unsurprised by the actions of the police though he couldn't go out himself. He knew they were only doing it so then another scene where the city was practically destroyed did not happen again any time soon, though truthfully they were just as bigoted as everybody else.

School had always felt like a prison to Peter even if he enjoyed learning, but during the couple of weeks starting from the day after the awful night where he'd gone out jogging and ran into those muggers and that mum and her kid, it had become worse. The "scare" caused by the "mutant attack" had made the boys surround the girls and they had started to discuss the attack, and how they hoped the same thing didn't happen to them.

Peter was unable to go out jogging. He had no idea if his aunt and uncle were afraid of mutants or not, the subject had never come up before and truthfully, he was afraid to ask in case they asked him about his own opinion. It was a nightmare worthy for a might night scare for Peter, really; he was so frightened the two people who loved and cared him for him so much would just turn nasty at the word mutant. But fortunately no mention of the word was made when Uncle Ben and Aunt May were sitting him down at the table so they could tell him he wasn't going out, and truthfully Peter was not going to ask any questions in case the atmosphere in the house changed completely. Typically Aunt May fretted at the thought of him being outside, but Peter just let her do it so then he could get out of there without any more hassle.

Unfortunately, one of the biggest downsides was Peter was having problems finding any decent time to himself to test what he was capable of doing, so there was no chance he could experiment. But it would have been so simple and straightforward for Peter to sneak out of the house or on his way back home from school, which is what he had done with the launderette since he had not wanted Aunt May to ask him any probing questions about the bloodstains on the jumper, but that was only for a few minutes and he knew his tests took a certain amount of time. Peter was just relieved he had made the decision to get the hoodie cleaned as quickly a possible because he had known the longer he let it go undone, the easier it would be for May to find the hoodie and ask him questions. The good thing was the launderette was too far from the house for his aunt and uncle to find out about it, so Peter just needed to find a way to get to it, get the hoodie washed in one of those do-it-yourself washing machines for a few minutes and then take it home. No-one was any the wiser. And people at the launderettes rarely if ever bothered caring about their customers. And Peter had done it the very day after he had fought those two muggers since the news was still fresh, and it hadn't really gotten out just yet and the outrage "a mutant freak" was in Queens had only just started, giving him the time he needed to sort the hoodie out. And he doubted the mother and the children were waiting around the corner.

After a couple of days of worrying himself sick, Peter quickly relaxed. No-one knew the mother and her child had been saved by him, no police officer came to his door, so he felt he was safe. Over the few weeks the only people to make such a big deal about that night itself were the mother and child, but Peter ignored them as they kept going on about the fright they'd faced being in his presence, but after a while the newspapers grew more and more tired with them because their story didn't really last long on their collective radar systems. The mother and child had sold the story to several newspapers in the city, but they had moved too fast and too far in a short amount of time, and they were quickly forgotten.

Peter had lost his own interest extremely quickly since the mother especially just said the same things over again. Fear and worry disappeared only in a short span of time, replaced quickly by disinterest.

When that happened Peter was relieved he had the chance to concentrate on other matters. He had gone back to his diary and he wrote down everything he remembered about the night he was called a mutant freak. He described how he had basically lost control, how he had been close to killing that guy, but he had also written how he had fought so effortlessly against the two thugs, who were bigger than he was physically. Peter knew thanks to his studies into leopards their bodies were strong and flexible enough to climb up and down trees, dragging carcasses which were twice as large as they were themselves, so it made sense he was strong enough to fight off two men at the same time.

Peter went back over his diary continuously, his eyes scanning each word as he committed them to memory although it wasn't really needed since he had already committed them to memory.

What worried Peter the most was he had lost control, and he had even sounded like an animal. During the first Peter had thought he had been hearing things, but on further reflection he realised those sounds had been real and they had been coming from him. The mother and her sons' never-ending, if dwindling, campaign against him, had made sure everyone knew he had been howling like a wild-cat (some of the stories were exaggerated, but Peter personally didn't really mind since it gave him something to add to the diary). The implications were still upsetting for him. Peter had been worried that the mutation caused by that teleportation equipment would begin to affect his mind, and this was the sum total of his worst fears.

Peter was worried after that incident he would begin sounding more and more like a leopard as time went on. The thought made his mind conjure up images of himself speaking in a growling voice, roaring with anger each time someone confronted him, or even worse when the police were called…But while those images only served to terrify Peter, even he had to admit they were illogical since he had been keeping a close watch over himself ever since the incident in the first place. He was still speaking normally, and there was no sign of any physical changes whatsoever, but he was still terrified.

It was typical, really. Peter had actually been enjoying the new changes to himself since the incident, he had more or less gotten over his fears and assumptions about where this mutation would lead. He was still continuing to see if his body was changing more than it had been, and aside from gaining a bit more muscle on his otherwise skinny, lanky frame and his claws, he had no fur sprouting from his skin, no tail. Nothing.

But thanks to those muggers and that bigoted woman and her son who was only following the example set by his mother, Peter felt he had just returned full-circle to square one. He was afraid of his own shadow. He was worried about leaving the house and suddenly running into someone who could tell he was different from everyone else. He was suddenly worried about school, worried that Flash and the others would suddenly corner him.

It took Peter only a short time to realise he was worried about nothing. It was an improvement over last time, and he guessed that because he had gotten over his fears before, he would get used to it later.

Relieved, Peter now found he had nothing to do except become increasingly frustrated because, thanks to the scare, it was hard for people to go back to their original routine, and the cops were still out and about even if their presence was dwindling in the neighbourhood even if many of the Queen's residents actively complained and said they felt safer at night with the patrol cars cruising through the streets which kept thieves and drug dealers and rapists away.

While Peter knew he could easily take on any of them, he was desperate to get back out there to see what his new strength could do. He was just frustrated there was no way at the moment for him to really see what his strength could do. Turning off his computer in irritation, Peter stood up and walked over to the window. He ignored the sounds of arguing from the Watsons' house. He didn't even bother with looking out of his window to see if MJ was there like he had done in the past. Peter listened to the argument; it was kind of hard for him not to take any notice of it since his ears were now more sensitive than they had been before the teleportation incident, though he wished they weren't since he didn't really want to listen to Mr Watson go on about how his wife and daughter were spending all of their money on things they didn't need.

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes, he didn't really need to have enhanced hearing to listen to the sob story of the Watson family and truthfully he'd heard all of this before. From the other room, he noticed Mary Jane run into her bedroom and head for her wardrobe where she grabbed a few things. It was as she dragged the fresh clothes which were the subject of the argument Mr and Mrs Watson was on about in the first place that Mary Jane noticed him. She stood upright and sent him a hesitant smile, knowing they weren't on the best of terms. He shut the window, knowing she was seeing everything he was doing and locked it tightly before he drew the curtains, making it clear to Mary Jane he was more than aware of what was happening, but he didn't care either. What she thought of that, he could not say and didn't care either.

Walking to his bed, Peter lay on the mattress and looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought as he pushed Mary Jane and her family problems out of his mind. He was too busy thinking about the future to really pay her any mind. He didn't want to live in limbo for the rest of his life…. Limbo. Peter sat up slightly as he furrowed his brow in thought.

Now he was thinking about it properly, Peter had to admit he hadn't really given much thought at all about what he wanted to do with these new abilities in his life. Sure, he wanted to go to college and perhaps university so then he could study science and computers in order to make a good career for himself in some capacity, but he'd had those plans in mind for as long as he could remember. Peter had worked long and hard and patiently to reach this far. He had been subjected to all kinds of ridicule from his classmates at that stupid school because they didn't understand him, enduring their pranks because he knew when they were out of his life it would be forever, but he had bottled in the frustration he had felt because he'd felt none of them had realised without a good education they would forever be locked in tedious jobs (okay, so maybe not all of them - he knew he was being unfair, but truthfully he doubted they would all get what they wanted out of life), and when they'd tried to steal his homework from him either so then they could present it to the teachers or so then they could make him look bad, he didn't know. But he had learnt to always meticulously copy his work at all times and keep copies of his work on his computer at home, or with him.

There was no way he was going to let them get away with damaging his education. Peter didn't care if Flash, Harry, Sally, Liz or Mary Jane had dismal lives, he wasn't going to let them bring his own down. No chance. His nonchalance had begun a long time before the teleportation incident, but the sudden transfusion of Leopard DNA into his own had given him the attitude you'd come to expect from a cat. In the case of Harry, Peter knew the pair of them were only friends out of convenience - Harry's popularity came from his wealth, which had put him in with the In Crowd, which gave him some influence so he was able to keep Peter out of trouble. In return, Peter did his homework. Peter was not naive. He knew he was only doing Harry a favour, but truthfully Peter couldn't understand what Harry expected in the long-term, and frankly didn't care. Having someone else do his homework would do more harm than good, though in Harry's case it was more likely the younger Osborn would simply inherit his father's company in the future so he would have to learn how to be tough on his own. Peter just wished he had backed away and isolated himself from everyone a long time before the trip to Oscorp since he couldn't help but feel as if he was being seen as slightly childish for backing away now over what Flash and Mary Jane had said before they'd even seen the lab.

But now he was thinking about it, Peter was just annoyed with himself that he hadn't really given much thought at all about what he wanted to do with these new abilities in his life. He had been so fixated on the present he hadn't really looked to the future.

He wasn't going to become a hero that was for sure. The idea had been there before, but the idea of dressing in some stupid costume like all of those other idiots didn't appeal to him in the first place. While the Fantastic Four's lives were an open book everyone knew about, and everyone respected them, Peter wasn't sure he wanted to be a hero in the first place. But it wasn't until he had actually stepped in for the first time and drew everyone's attention to the fact someone in the neighbourhood was strong enough to beat up two men at the same time and he had sounded like a wild-cat, only to be called a "mutant freak" in the process that it was overrated anyway.

Peter didn't want to stick out his neck for anyone like that anyway. Leave things like super heroics to people like Iron Man, and the rest of the Avengers or some other people like that.

But where did that leave him?

Peter groaned and rested his head on his pillow again as he looked up at the ceiling, but the question of what he was going to do still went around his mind.

"What's the matter, Peter?" Uncle Ben's voice asked from the door, and the door opened revealing the troubled and concerned expression on his uncles' face.

Peter didn't move. There wasn't any reason for him to be jumpy in the first place since he had turned off the computer and there was nothing for his uncle to pick up on, even if he was annoyed Uncle Ben had caught him at such a bad time. What really upset the teenager was he couldn't even speak to Uncle Ben about what had happened to him because he was scared about what Ben and May would do.

"Nothing, just groaning in general. Is everything okay?" he replied, noting that Ben looked hesitant; that in itself was a sign that whatever his uncle had to say was important.

Ben sighed and sat down, but he noticed the drawn curtain, knowing it was opposite Mary Jane's bedroom. Ben decided not to mention it, knowing that Peter was over the gorgeous redheaded girl and he knew there was no chance of them getting together. He also knew Peter had probably heard the almost daily argument that raged inside their neighbour's house. He wasn't surprised Peter had drawn the curtain over it so he could block it out. Everyone else did.

Realising he needed to speak quickly to get this matter out of the way soon, Ben decided to just get to the point. "Peter, do you remember my friend, Bob Hall?"

"The locksmith, yeah I remember him," Peter replied, suddenly getting a good idea what this visit was about.

Ben looked shamefully down at his feet. "Peter, money is short. I hate to ask you, but if you could-."

"It's okay, Uncle Ben. I know," Peter replied quietly, knowing what his uncle was asking him to do. The Parkers got their income from two sources. Both May and Ben worked, and they worked hard in order to provide for themselves and their nephew. Ben usually left for work shortly after Peter was gone for school, and May would follow in a couple of hours after she'd sorted out the housework so she wouldn't need to do it when she returned home. Peter was not exempt from working, and to be honest, he was grateful for it since he enjoyed learning and each job he had worked on in the past had been a learning curve for him. When Peter had been old enough, Ben had managed to get him a job as a newspaper boy. He used to go around the neighbourhood and deliver newspapers for a couple of years, and while the job had been poor in the case of how much he was paid, it had been a good experience. It was truly amazing just how many friends of Ben's owed him a favour. Many of them owned and ran businesses that were small fry.

The next job had been helping to stack shelves at a grocery shop for a year and a half. That had been straightforward enough, and he had even graduated to using the till, and he'd quickly become an expert in serving the customers. Peter's next job had been in another shop, this time it was a hardware shop. His tasks there were just as simple, and because of his lack of physical strength and stamina there was only so much he could do there, but fortunately for Peter, he only needed to stack shelves and do some other basic chores in the shop and that was it.

So far, the painting-decorating job had been something Peter had not really enjoyed that much. Peter had many talents but painting and decorating was not one of them since he had suffered from vertigo even at laughable heights, frustrating his boss immensely since he had felt it would have been great to have a worker who was capable of helping reduce the load.

It was the physical problems Peter had suffered before going to Oscorp that made it extremely difficult for Ben to give Peter some real diversity to the jobs, but the good news was Peter could still do a great deal. Peter had known about his uncle's friend Bob, and he wondered what had needed to be done for Peter to get the job.

But the biggest job to really give him some experience in a completely different field had been when Peter had been made to work at a used car dealership. Once more he didn't receive any truly complicated tasks, just the basics like cleaning and washing the cars with the others. His age and his lack of a driver's licence were the only reasons he was kept away from the day to day stuff but that was only logical.

The good news about these jobs was that Peter not only gained a rich diversity of jobs but also had a resume that was full of experience. Peter had his uncle to thank for that, just like he had his uncle to thank for the high probability he would find it easier than most to get a job when it came to college.

Peter had it all worked out. He would apply for work before college and he would use that to get some cash coming in, but Uncle Ben knew about that plan already since Ben had asked him some very well worded questions before the Oscorp trip. With that in mind, Peter had a question of his own on his mind.

"What about my plans to find some work before college?"

"I've already thought that out. I've spoken to Bob about it, and he's agreed that when it comes to school and college your work shifts will only be part-time."

Peter mulled it over in his head. While he didn't really want his uncle to be the one to sort out all of his jobs, having a locksmithing job might be good for him in the long run, and besides in that position he could find another job that he'd found by himself without really worrying about the time constraint of finding a job before college. "Will I be okay to find a second job?" he asked, voicing his thought.

Ben gave him a somewhat conspiratorial look. "I won't tell him if you won't," he whispered with a wink, looking very much like the man who sometimes helped Peter back out of receiving those embarrassing haircuts his Aunt May usually took him on only for Ben to step in with a different idea so long as it was sensible.

Peter shook his head in mock exasperation with his uncle."When do I start?" he asked.

"In a couple of days time," Ben replied, not really surprising his nephew; Ben usually liked to give Peter the time necessary to used to the idea of the job. But Ben liked to take Peter straight to the business itself so he could see it. It wasn't usually important since Peter had visited them once or twice in the distant past anyway, but on those occasions Ben liked to give his nephew a pep talk before the real thing.

When Peter looked back on this moment later on, he would ask himself if there was some kind of destiny to this, though destiny was not something he believed in.

* * *

What do you think?


	6. Chapter 6 The Turning Point is

Disclaimer - I don't own anything except for this story - Marvel does the rest.

Feedback - Would definitely be nice.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

As he slowly walked home from work, deftly avoiding anyone he met on the streets, Peter had time to reflect on everything that had happened recently and the new turn his life had taken. The new job was very interesting to Peter, he decided after a few weeks of working there before he had decided to make up his mind about that. Sure; there had been some aspects about the work he'd done in other places his uncle arranged for him over the years he had truly not liked, but they had still been interesting overall.

Uncle Ben had sorted it all out with his friend. Peter would work after school for a couple of hours, and when it was the weekend Peter would be expected to work a full day on Saturday, but not on Sundays because the Halls were Catholic. The new change to his life was slightly difficult for him to adapt to at first since he had spent a while trying to push his abilities to see what he could do with them, but it wasn't a big deal.

The good news was Bob Hall and the other people who had worked in the shop handled most of the work while he was still being trained up, but Mr Hall was impressed with how quickly he picked stuff up, though he still occasionally let the elder locksmith do most of the work while he learnt enough about the business before he could do the same things as the others.

It was a fairly small business. There were only six others in the shop. There was someone or a couple of someones who always manned the phones in the office in order to take the calls for new locks to be installed or to have the locks they already had checked out and serviced in case of a burglary, or because something was wrong with them. Peter was very quickly put to work on the retail side of the business. He simply arranged the displays and learnt all he could about the varying locks, but there were so many he had to put in a lot of work just to get it all right. This changed a few days later when he had gained a bit more expertise in the field to be put into the office.

And yet, despite how well the new job was going, Peter was still frustrated because he still had no idea what he was going to do with his leopard abilities, though he was relieved the chaos caused by his act of samaritan kindness towards that woman and her son had virtually died down. It had been tense for him at first, especially since he walked home during the evening. The same illogical fear the police would soon be onto him still remained slightly, and every time he saw the police cars, he was afraid he would suddenly transform into a human-leopard because of the stress.

But he had quickly reined in the fears since they made no sense, and there was still no change to his body and Peter had reached the point where he mentally admitted to himself it wasn't going to happen.

Actually, there was a change to Peter. But it was a mental change and now that he was more or less over the fear he'd felt earlier after he'd been terrified the police would find something incriminating to pin on him, Peter was able to pin it down.

He had realised he had begun to have a slightly more aggressive side. Oh, it wasn't too bad, his relationship with his uncle and aunt was the same as it had always been. It just flared up occasionally, like when he had howled like an angry animal when he'd fought with those thugs, so it wasn't noticeable if he was calm. But his newfound aloof attitude was, especially to people he genuinely didn't like or care for. Uncle Ben thought it was just a phase, a sign of being a teenager since teenagers did do a lot of bizarre things and acted completely moody and irresponsible. Peter knew better. He had a feeling this aloofness was going to be with him for the rest of his life.

Peter had more or less gotten over that, but what he really wished he could get over was the sudden fear he would transform into some mutant thing that was more leopard than human, and he knew he had a lot to curse those Fly movies for, and he knew seeing those movies had been a mistake on top of everything else in his life that had been turned upside down and back to front until all that was left was a chaotic jumble that he couldn't sort out, even though those movies and other material had been a frame of reference to help him figure out what he was going to do, what to look for, and how to test his leopard abilities.

As he walked home now with his hands in the pockets of his coat, Peter did his best to remain positive. In a few weeks time, he would finally graduate from the hell that was called High School and he would begin his career as a college student. He was looking forward to that. He was looking forward to higher education, especially since he was able to choose his courses and didn't have pointless classes that meant nothing to him in the long run. Along the way, he would look for a second job to help support himself and his uncle and aunt. He had no doubt in his mind he would need a second job. Money had been tight for the Parker clan for a long time, and it was only through hard work had they managed to get this far.

Peter was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard arguing on the other side of the street, it was so loud it hurt his leopard-enhanced hearing.

It sounded like a family having a fight.

"I'm sorry, Greg, I really am!" a woman was pleading in a shrill voice and didn't even realise the whole street could hear them.

"No, I've had enough. I've had enough of you, you sleeping around with other guys…. I guess I should have seen it, but I loved you too much," a man, clearly this 'Greg', retorted from inside. Like the woman, he either didn't know or didn't care their dirty laundry was being heard from outside.

"But I'm sorry!" The woman shrieked before her voice became calmer but nonetheless was still loud enough to be heard from outside. "Please don't leave me!"

"You don't need me, nor does our daughter-!"

Now the woman's voice became angry. "Don't you dare bring Nicole into this!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Greg's voice shouted. "The pair of you treat me like shit, you spend every cent I earn-."

"Oh, here we go!" Disdain was now flowing through the wife's voice. "It's always about money, isn't it?"

"Shut up!

On the street Peter closed his eyes, shook his head, reopened his eyes and walked away, deciding not to bother listening to the ensuing drama as it unfolded. It reminded him too much of the pointless arguments that went on at Mary Jane's house. The moment the thought registered, Peter realised that he never once thought of Mary Jane and even after it occurred to him, nothing else entered his mind about the redhead. It was as though Mary Jane didn't exist as far as Peter was concerned, which suited him just fine.

He felt he had more than enough problems as it was in his life without a girl who had essentially dashed his hopes for a romance. But he was still frustrated that he had yet to figure out what he was going to do with his leopard abilities in the future that didn't involve playing hero in some stupid costume, but Peter decided to place that on a back burner and just concentrate on his life as though Oscorp had never happened.

Thinking about Oscorp made Peter frown. It had been long enough and yet nothing had happened. He was starting to get the impression that he had secretly broken into that lab without anybody finding out about it. And no-one had spoken to his aunt and uncle about him, and he hadn't noticed anyone suspicious hanging about his home or neighbourhood, and his leopard abilities would have effortlessly picked out someone like that if they had helped him become more aware enough to avoid Flash's childish games.

If his leopard abilities could stop Flash or one of his cronies from giving him a wedgie by giving him an enhanced awareness of his surroundings, then they would definitely be helping him avoid someone with a gun. Peter loved that part of his new self; smell, sight, and sound. Three senses that gave him a greater awareness than Flash or anyone else could imagine.

But it was worrying that a company that was famous for its ties with the military much like Stark Industries had been once upon a time before Tony Stark was kidnapped and kept captive for a short time before he escaped to become Iron Man didn't seem to have noticed anything to compromise security.

Ever since that school trip, Peter had been expecting trouble from Oscorp. It wouldn't have taken them long to identify one student out of a dozen; all they would have needed to do was to check the date and time of the CCTV footage and then check which school was visiting at the time and just make enquiries to see which teenager had broken in. That would be how he'd have done it.

But Peter was not about to tempt fate. If someone in Oscorp was onto him, then he would find out about it sooner or later and he would need to come up with a plan in case things got out of hand.

"STOP THIEF!"

Peter, who hadn't been anticipating any trouble, was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard someone shout even before the door to a grocery store was thrown open and a man ran out. Peter quickly stepped back and slipped into the shadows of a doorway so no-one could see him while he examined the man as he raced away, getting a good glimpse of the other guy's face. He was slimmer and wirier than the two thugs he'd met the other week, with an unshaven face that had clearly not been touched up in a while, with spiky blonde hair.

He was carrying a gun in one hand, and a paper bag in the other. The robber raced down the street and out of sight. Peter watched him go even as the few pedestrians watched him go, some of them scared at the sight of the gun in the robbers' hands but he was too fast for any of the braver ones to chase after. As the robber raced down and fled until he was out of sight, Peter stayed where he was. The teenager had faced a momentary flash of indecision when he had seen the robber, but it was only a flash. He knew it was only because he had the power and the means to chase after the robber and get that gun out of his hand.

But he didn't.

After the close call he'd had not so long ago with those muggers, Peter didn't want the mental changes he'd noticed to flare out of control once more. He had the feeling this robber, unlike those muggers who'd carried flick-knives, would fire a shot and antagonise him enough for a howl like an angry jungle cat which would be noticed by everyone. On top of that he didn't have anything to cover his face, so even if he had gone after the robber, everyone would catch a glimpse of him. Hair colour, skin tone, general appearance. It could let the police know who he was, and that was the last thing he wanted.

But as he continued to look down in the general direction where the robber had fled, Peter wondered if he could have dealt with the robber without matters spiralling out of control, but it was too late now.

It wasn't as if he was going to meet the robber again, right?

* * *

General Slocum was quietly impressed with the efficiency of the QuestAerospace people, far more than he was impressed with that pedantic clown Norman Osborn. For a start, the technicians and the scientists here had devised an exoskeleton that, although not nearly as impressive as the Iron Man armour technology, was good enough for now.

As he stood in the centre of Bunker Six on the proving grounds where Quest tested their new weapons and technologies for delivery to the military with the project director, Slocum kept one of his hands curled around the expensive fountain pen he had brought ready for signing the contract which would remove Oscorp funding and give it to Quest while giving them access to more resources to complete their work.

Slocum was looking forward to the signing of the contract. Not only would it get his superiors off of his back after Osborn's smoke and mirror promises, but America would begin to lead the world in exoskeleton weapon-grade technology. Just as it should.

As he peered through the narrow open-air opening, Slocum's eyes examined the exoskeleton, manned by a Captain Curtis, who was apparently the best pilot for this job, though personally, Slocum didn't really care since he knew Quest was not stupid enough to put any old amateur into the armour. No, it would be a pilot with great experience.

Physically from an aesthetic point of view the armour was not really impressive and compared to the Iron Man armour where that arrogant fop Stark had free mobility, Slocum couldn't help but feel that this armour would be like someone trying to walk a cabinet. It wasn't a good comparison to such an advanced armour like the one Iron Man used, but there was still time to develop on that, provided Quest was up to the challenge, but Slocum was planning on making it clear to them the US government wanted top results.

The Quest armour reminded him of a kit, really; the centre was a tall lozenge shaped thing that resembled the cockpit of a jet fighter, and then someone had just glued it into a frame with large cylindrical arms which contained weapons and other implements while it moved about on the ground while above there were a number of small missile launchers. It looked well armed from a military point of view, but Slocum really wanted to be impressed.

"What is going to happen with your commitment to Oscorp?" the project director asked curiously.

Slocum continued looking ahead. In hindsight, he had to admit the question shouldn't have been unexpected, but he was surprised by just how blunt the director was. He liked that. Someone who was straight with him instead of leading him around all the time, it was certainly refreshing.

Just like it was refreshing working with someone who was smart enough to develop a more straightforward technology instead of pioneering something com "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to see Norman Osborn out of business," he assured the director, "he has made promise after promise, and like fools we gave him chance after chance. No more."

The test went ahead when the exoskeleton began to lift off like a miniature rocket. Slocum watched it with a critical eye. The guys at Quest had not even pretended to bother working on something as complex as a glider or the repulsing jets Osborn and Stark respectively used. They had decided that they needed to keep it simple would be sufficient while they concentrated on more important necessities.

Overplex a radio Slocum listened as the pilot gave his report. "Preflight checks completed. Lifting off in 5….4…..3…2….1…Zero!"

A cloud of white smoke coiled around the exoskeleton as the suit lifted off slowly, and from their vantage point within the testing bunker, Slocum and the Project Director watched as the .take off was completed without a hitch. For Slocum, the moment was something to be happy about; for too long he had witnessed the Oscorp glider tests, and while it was certainly impressive, he had been more than frustrated by Osborn's need to make everything so complicated when the glider's weapons were more than sufficient to put an enemy down.

Osborn had never understood that a small amount of superhuman strength derived from cybernetic augmentation was sufficient instead of relying on a performance enhancer that was so risky it should never be used. It was similar to that insane super-soldier program that had been put on ice years ago after it caused numerous physical and mental traumas to the test subjects.

But this was exactly the kind of technology America needed. Soldiers in exoskeletons, and even if they resembled stripped down fighter planes, what of it? Appearance meant nothing in war. Only firepower and free mobility mattered.

Slocum watched as the manoeuvring jets of the Quest exoskeleton hung above the proving ground, fully aware that in a few moments it would be flown around the test area to see how well it performed in the air, and then it would fly towards the target area, where it would test its weapons. Slocum was looking forward to seeing how well this armour worked and how well it could perform.

He was about to turn to the director to ask him some questions when he heard an urgent voice report suddenly over the intercom. "We are picking up an unidentified flying object. Closing fast. Can you see anything?"

Slocum frowned when he heard Curtis reply uncertainly. "I…think I can see something. What the hell is it? Wait. It's coming closer. What is…? Oh my god!"

Over the intercom, Slocum and the Project Director heard something that sounded like an insane laugh…

Suddenly a streak of green light smacked into the Quest armour, making it explode in mid-air. Slocum reflexively threw up an arm to block out the worst of the light caused by the explosion. When the light cleared, Slocum's eyes widened with horror when he saw that the QuestAerospace's prototype exoskeleton was no more, but a pile of smouldering metals and plastics, but the general didn't have any time to say or do anything when something swooped down….

Wait, Slocum's eyes widened when he took in the figure on that familiar shape… No, it couldn't be, his mind argued furiously as he took in the sight of the familiar green ribbed suit on top of the familiar glider he had seen countless times before, but he didn't recognise the helmet or mask the figure was wearing in the brief moments leading up to his death. All he could see were a pair of demonic gold-yellow eyes….

The figure let loose an insane cackle and lights flared around the glider. As the missiles were fired from the glider, Slocum barely had a chance to scream before he was engulfed in a series of explosions that reduced the bunker to rubble.

* * *

As he flew above what was left of the Proving Ground of QuestAerospace, the man who considered himself to be the ultimate evolution of Norman Osborn threw back his head and let out a harsh, maniacal cackle. The plan had worked perfectly. At long last, he was finally freed of the irritating presence of General Slocum in his life, and now things would be far more pleasant for him and his other self.

It had been truly satisfying the destroy that pathetic thing Quest had labelled the "ultimate warrior." For a long time, his other self had scorned the work his agents within this amateur corporation had brought to his attention. The problem with Quest was they'd been too determined to focus on what the military already had which was one of the primary reasons why this project had been too easy for them to do. It felt glorious to shift the world around to where it should be, now his other could do what he needed to do in the future without meddling from the military, though he had no intention of allowing his other to deliver the performance enhancer or the glider technology to the military, not when there were dozens of more projects in the works at Oscorp to focus on. After the investigation into the destruction of Quest, Oscorp was the only other company which had been providing the military and the US with the hardware they wanted, but he had no idea what he was going to do about the glider. Maybe he would give them a watered down version of the technology, a shadow of the real possibility?

No matter, he thought to himself. There was still plenty of time to make up his mind.

After all, he had all the time in the world, and if anyone got in his way they would not live long enough for it to matter.

* * *

Until the next time...!


	7. Chapter 7 Finally Here!

Disclaimer - I don't own Spider-Man. Marvel comics do. I'm just putting my own spin on things (no spider pun intended) and mix it with an old British comic I love because of its simplicity.

Feedback... would be nice.

Authors note - Please stop asking me in the reviews about the pairings. It isn't going to happen, I have no plans for pairings now or in the future. Sorry, but that is the way it is.

Thank you.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter couldn't believe it; after weeks of trying to avoid situations like this, it had finally happened. Flash Thompson was standing right in front of him, towering over him and invading his personal space, his face tinged red with anger that Peter didn't want to work out, though he knew, somehow he was the cause.

Ever since he had gained his leopard abilities it had been remarkably easy to escape Flash and put some distance between himself and the jock, but he'd used a combination of his eyes, ears and his sense of smell to pick up on Flash's usual musk. He hadn't really believed just how easy it was to tell if someone was creeping up on him from behind because he could smell them, but his senses were more enhanced than they had been before. As he thought about it all in the brief moment he was wondering how Flash had been able to corner him, he realised he had always been able to smell scents as they came downwind towards him, but not today.

Peter mentally shrugged. Flash had caught him out a few times, though their encounters had been few and far between. while his newfound abilities had helped him stop the worst of the bullying from Flash, that didn't mean the jock had magically stopped trying. Like in the jungle, a leopard could suddenly be attacked by lions.

"You think you're very clever, aren't you, freak?!" The shaved gorilla snapped at him.

"What are you talking about?" Peter retorted, hoping Flash didn't notice how he almost flinched from the insult; he had gotten over that nasty encounter with that mother and her child after he'd tried to help them, and the way the newspapers had gone on and on about the story while they caused more fear mongering towards those who were different, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Flash glared at him. "The way you stare at my girlfriend through the window at her place," the jock replied, and Peter could not resist but try to look at Mary Jane, knowing the redhead was right behind, to see what all this was about. But Flash's height and general bulk made it virtually impossible without stepping to the side so he could see what the redhead was thinking.

"I don't stare at your girlfriend," Peter knew he was lying, because he had stared at Mary Jane through the two windows of their respective bedrooms in the past though he didn't bother now, especially after overhearing that latest argument between Mary Jane's parents and he'd closed the curtains of his room to make it clear he didn't care about her or what it was even about.

But the moment the words were out of his mouth Peter knew he'd made a mistake. Flash's emotions were easy enough to read and he could see the expression stamped across the jock's face right now. Flash's meaty paw shot out too fast for anyone else to see, but Peter saw it coming in advance, and the paw wrapped around a handful of his shirt and jumper and he was shoved none too gently into the wall of lockers.

Peter groaned a little bit. He could have knocked the hand aside but hopefully Flash would soon get bored of this, and then he would 'warn the geek off of his girl' and lumber off with his cronies. So far Peter hadn't drawn attention to himself - that mess with the muggers aside though no-one knew it was him, and he wanted to keep it that way. He didn't want people asking him how he was able to suddenly fight off Flash Thompson, the star of the football field, and overall round All-American guy. He had always been in the backgrounds and it was a good idea for it to stay that way. He was still trying to work out what to do about his abilities and he wanted to try to get through this without this big ape trying to kill him.

"You're lying, Parker!" Flash snarled at him, pushing his face so close to Peter's nose he could practically smell Flash's breath. "MJ has told me you were leering at her a few nights ago when her parents were fighting!"

Peter sighed mentally knowing he couldn't win this fight since Flash would never believe him if he told him the truth. "Okay," he began while hoping he wasn't making a stupid mistake by saying this, "I won't stare at her again-."

"Flash," Mary Jane called, "I told you, it's not worth it. And besides, he didn't leer at me. He just totally ignored me."

She sounded unhappy about that, but Peter wondered if it was because he hadn't given her any attention and was now hoping for her boyfriend to give it to her instead. Peter looked at Flash, but the jock didn't seem to have listened or even heard his girlfriend's voice. There was also something else in Flash's face Peter hadn't noticed until now, and thanks to Mary Jane he could see it now.

Flash looked delighted and yet frustrated at the same time, eager. Peter didn't need to be a psychologist to work out why Flash had those emotions crossing his face.

The jock had probably been hoping for something like this for a while but he'd never had the chance because Peter had always been able to stay one or two steps ahead of him, but when Mary Jane had told him about how he'd just closed the curtains, Flash must have thought Christmas had come early, though what on earth had possessed Mary Jane to tell Flash that, Peter could not work out.

It didn't matter, anyway.

Flash's crooked grin filled Peter's entire vision. "You're damn right, you won't," he sneered.

Peter mentally groaned when he realised what Flash was about to do, and he wasn't disappointed when he saw the jock lift his free hand and scrunch it into a fist. The skin was stretched so tightly over the knuckles Peter could see it turn milky white in colour before it came speeding towards Peter's head.

 _Not a chance,_ Peter thought to himself, deciding he was tired of being the punching bag for whenever Flash Thompson decided to blow off steam. Grabbing hold of the paw holding him, Peter managed to free himself while he ignored the gasps of everyone watching nearby since he had never been able to do that before; it had always made Flash's cronies and brainless girlfriends who hung around them while laughing stupidly chuckle with amusement since no-one but the teachers really liked Peter that much whenever they saw Flash or someone else about to beat him black and blue.

But the most tragic thing was Peter could not fight back, until now by the look of it.

Flash was furious. He had wanted to get back to hurting 'Puny Parker' more than ever but the geek had always managed to escape except for a few moments, but now he was embarrassed he'd lost his grip on the geek and he was free again. Flash chalked it up to a lucky escape on Parker's part. Clenching his fists, Flash went for Peter again, throwing expert boxing punches that would have had everyone but a trained professional writhing on the ground with a broken mouth.

He missed. Flash paused in annoyance, regathered his energy and actually used his brain to make him think things through. He decided to throw a punch with his right fist that would drive Parker to the left so he could punch him with his left fist. The first part worked, but when he threw out his left fist in quick succession with his first punch. But Parker sidestepped it, again.

Flash stepped back, bewildered and he didn't even try to hide it. How had the geek managed to do this? Was he training with someone or something? It didn't make sense. Parker was famous for his inability to perform even the simplest of athletic sports. What the fuck was going on? After a few more seconds of doing nothing, Flash realised he needed to do something quickly, especially when he noticed the way everyone was looking at him. That was what spurred him on. If there was one thing Flash Thompson cared about the most besides his precious sports it was how everyone in the school perceived him.

Already annoyed by how Puny Parker had managed to get lucky but knowing that he had the superior strength and speed, Flash became furious when he saw how everyone was looking at him. Not caring anymore about finesse or planning, Flash's fists flew out, trying to catch Peter just once, unaware Peter had already thought of a way to get out of this mess before Parker lashed out with a sudden kick…

A few minutes before Peter sighed mentally as he tried to rein in his leopard temper which was struggling to get loose and do some serious harm to Flash, his mind recalling vividly how he'd let it loose on those muggers, and he'd sounded like a maddened wild cat, which he had been genetically merged with. He had no intention of letting that out again. He had survived before because no-one had seen his face and no-one knew anything about him. Here, he was well known, and he had no desire to stand out. But he was unsure how he could stop this fight. He had no faith the teachers would do anything, he'd given them chances in the past and they'd always let him down, and he'd always gone home with injuries.

While Flash was standing there for a moment before he launched those punches e realised he couldn't make this a long fight, though it wasn't a fight in Peter's mind since he knew, if he hadn't had leopard like abilities, then he would have gone home with a broken jaw and a smirking Flash going on his merry way.

Flash had thrown a particularly nasty punch with speed and power that Peter knew from experience meant if they connected he probably would have looked at a nasty concussion when Peter decided to make his move. He had thought the best way to make Flash back off while keeping in mind he was trying to keep what had happened to him to himself was to do something simple.

Peter lashed out with a sudden but very strong kick that he hoped was just beginners luck though he made sure the kick was powered by his leopard strength.

Flash suddenly wheezed out and he collapsed to the ground, completely breathless. Peter lowered his leg, hoping he had schooled his face to look shocked that he'd managed to hurt the mighty Flash Thompson. Peter looked at him with sudden worry when Flash kept up with his wheezing, and he prayed that the blow hadn't broken a rib or punctured one of the jocks lungs. Everyone in the hall looked at Peter with fear.

* * *

Peter was thankful he was working at the locksmith where he felt more comfortable since the people who worked with him had grown out of the High-school mindset long ago. The locksmith was the best place for him to get some peace and quiet away from the usual drama at school and from the other teenagers there.

It had been three days since that mess with Flash, and things were not good. Flash had recovered after an hour but his chest had some pretty vivid bruising, but fortunately, he wasn't seriously hurt. He had been checked over but the kick had not seriously hurt him and there was no real damage though the Thompsons had taken their son to the hospital for a checkup, but from what he'd heard Flash was still okay. He hadn't caused Flash that much damage since he had seen the results of his kicks in the past since he had practiced the moves to see how much power he could put into them.

What really annoyed Peter about Flash was how the jock was playing up the victim angle. He was acting as though Peter had punctured a lung, but he wasn't seriously injured.

Unfortunately, the Principal had not been impressed. In fact, he had been horrified about what Peter had done, especially since Peter had never struck him as the violent, physical type before. To make things worse his uncle and aunt had been called in and told about what happened, and Peter had told them he had just lashed out.

Peter wasn't exactly on his uncle and aunts good side at the moment, but he would be lying if he said he regretted what he had done to Flash. He didn't though he was unsure if it was the leopard side of him that thought that or the long since frustrated and angry side he kept buried.

The jock had had it coming for a long time; even someone who hated violence as much as Peter did after being on the receiving end of it for so long could see that. But he understood Uncle Ben and Aunt May were more shocked by what he'd done to Flash.

The good news was he hadn't been expelled. Flash hadn't been really hurt, he hadn't been forced to take a few days off school, and yet the egotistical moron had returned to the school like an all-conquering hero who'd had half of his limbs amputated. It was so fake it was pathetic, but it was the reaction of everyone in the school he had no trouble ignoring.

All the other students were treating him differently. Some of the girls were trying to ask him out on a date or trying to fawn all over him, but it was all so fake and sudden Peter had ignored it. The guys…. they weren't sure what to do since Flash had been taken down so easily. Harry and Mary Jane had also been treating him differently. Harry was not sure what to say or do, though there was nothing new there. Mary Jane seemed torn between interest in him again and fear over what had happened to Flash.

Speaking of which underneath all that fawning he'd received since Flash was a major bully, everyone was now afraid of him, some of them were just better at hiding it than others.

It made no difference what they were thinking about him. In a few weeks graduation would be upon them all, and unknown to everyone, Peter had drawn up a chart counting down the days before he graduated and he could finally leave Midtown High and go on into college and study science properly instead of it being taught at school. He was looking forward to it, looking forward to learning new things about science and technology. It was a negative attitude to have towards the school he'd been attending for years, but Peter could not care less. He just wanted to leave and he wanted to graduate. Peter wasn't going to miss Midtown High, and after all the bad memories he had of the place - the bullying, the humiliations he'd suffered over the years while he and his family tried to pick the pieces up while the teachers either couldn't do anything to prevent it happening again until he decided to try to keep his own head down while Flash and the other idiots like King bullied him - it wasn't a surprise why he would feel that way.

He was only relieved the principal had not suspended or expelled him since Flash had not been seriously harmed and besides it was the first offence.

Peter buried himself in his new job while he got ready for college and he would begin looking immediately after graduation for something small scale to do during his tenure as a college student.

Meanwhile, he had made a mini graduation in his work.

At the locksmith Peter had finally been deemed worthy of the chance to learn more about locks (he was still having problems with lock picking but Mr Hall said it was okay - Peter had the impression that the man was only saying that because he knew his time was temporary, but he didn't care though it would be nice to be able to pick locks since it seemed like a handy skill to have even if it was fiddly to learn), and he was working with the others to properly understand how locks worked. He knew he wouldn't be at the locksmith's long enough to know how they put the locks together, but he didn't mind since it would give him yards of knowledge and experience, not to mention a good reference.

* * *

Flash winced as he pulled himself up off of the bed in his room when he heard the sound of his mother downstairs calling to let him know dinner was ready. He was just relieved that his dad was still in rehab for drinking, otherwise Flash would be expecting a truly nasty night. As he got up, wincing in pain from his chest, he still felt as though he had stepped out into the middle of an unwanted and unexpected dream, being beaten by Puny Parker.

He still could not believe the geek had beaten him, nor could he understand it.

It still stunned him the geek had been able to dodge his punches but to kick him in the chest….!

His mother hadn't been very sympathetic by his injury after the initial checks to see if he was okay, but when she realised he was just a bit bruised after that hospital trip, she had not made it a secret how she felt. Oh, she was still fawning over him as always, making sure he was comfortable but she was unafraid to tell him he deserved it for taking after his old man. His mother's scolding was not something Flash hadn't expected since she had tried for years to stop him bullying the other kids at school. While she hated the fact he'd been kicked in the chest, that didn't stop her from making it clear he'd had it coming for a long time since bullies usually always got their comeuppance.

Like Flash, his mother took the brunt of her husbands abuse, and for a long time she had been forced to watch in horror as her own son, trying to find a way to get through it all, had decided to become a younger version of his father.

His father had, naturally, taken the opposite view of what had happened to him at the school. He had shouted at Flash to never "let the geek get away with it," but truthfully Flash doubted he'd have the chance. It was an open secret Parker was going to be studying science and technology at college whereas Flash would be studying sports and athletics.

Like many of the soon-to-be graduates of the school, Flash was going to be thankful he could finally study what he actually liked and wanted to study. He didn't care what Puny Parker was studying any more than what his girlfriend was studying.

Thinking of Mary Jane made him grimace as he left his bedroom and closed the door a touch. Things between him and his girlfriend were not going well. In fact, they had been falling apart for a long time. Flash wasn't sure what it was, only that it was probably some weird girl thing. There were times he could not understand Mary Jane. It was hard for him to pin down. Sometimes the girl would be all over him, and yet on other occasions, she would be moody and unresponsive to his advances.

When he had gone for Parker the other day he had just been so frustrated. And when MJ had told him that little story of how Parker had watched her from his own bedroom before he coldly closed the curtains in an offhand and upset way. As he moodily walked down the stairs to head for the kitchen table, Flash remembered how he had decided to just vent his annoyance on Parker since he was a favourite target.

But truthfully he was jealous of Parker because Mary Jane Watson fancied him.

Flash wasn't stupid. Mary Jane was not the only girl who fancied the geek as they'd grown up together, though he couldn't work out why. But he knew one thing. He was jealous of Parker, that was why he lashed out at the other guy continually though Harry Osborn did his best to stop it.

But Mary Jane….

Flash had been amazed by how maintenance the chick was. He'd had dozens of 'girlfriends' like that in the past, girls who were willing or unwilling for sex, but those who were willing tended to use him as a sex toy, something he tolerated for a short amount of time.

Mary Jane was the same way, though she always went on "about her own needs," whatever that meant since she was unpredictable.

Flash sighed and rubbed his aching head. It was so mind-numbing to think about what went through that girls' brain at the best of times, so he decided to just push it aside and take it one day at a time, but if she did dump him then he wouldn't do a fucking thing. Let the next guy pick up the pieces, it was what he'd been doing himself since the day he'd asked her out.

* * *

Peter puffed lightly as he jogged through the darkening streets of the neighbourhood as he went home. He was relieved that not only had the heat died down since that mess with the muggers and the mother and her son which meant he was still in the clear, but the fear-mongering caused by those ignorant assholes about mutants had lost their voice as the police made it clear there were no more mutants or people imitating their abilities running around.

Tonight he was just exercising. That was it. End of story. He wasn't going to stick his life out for anyone or anything unless it was a cat or a small child, though he had no intention of showing off what he could do. He had come close before, he wasn't going to risk it again.

But when he turned the corner, he nearly tripped in shock and horror. His house was surrounded by police cars and there was an ambulance parked outside. It was like a film, only this one was worse because it was very very real.

Peter snapped out of his stupor when he saw his Aunt May being led out with a shock blanket draped over her shoulders, escorted by two paramedics and a police officer.

"Aunt May!" he hollered (he would later ask himself if he had sounded like the big cat he now shared genetic traits with, but he genuinely didn't care since his aunt and uncle were more important), and he rushed towards the house, ignoring but aware of how the entire street was looking at the scene, many of them with disbelief and confusion. The Parkers had a few friends on the street but unlike those lying and ridiculous soap operas they weren't close-knit on this street, and they never had been.

Peter ran so fast it was only blind luck one of the police officers managed to get in the way and hold him back out of reflex. Peter mentally roared with anger at being caught like this though the rational part of his mind could hardly blame the police for this. They didn't know who he was and his shout could mean anything.

But the rational part of Peter's mind was warring with the leopard side of his mind which was roaring at him to fight back, to slash whoever was holding him to ribbons. That part took control-

"Stop! That's my nephew!" Thin and frail as she was May Parker still had an impressive pair of lungs, which she had no hesitation in using when she saw Peter being manhandled by two police officers. She had dimly heard his call, but she had still been moving between awareness and shock over what had happened, in her own home no less, but the commotion had made her look up idly before she took note of who it was in the arms of the police officers.

One of the detectives on duty nodded at the officers holding Peter and they let him go, and the teenager was free to run over to his aunt and wrap her into a tight but gentle hug.

"What happened?" Peter demanded when he pulled back.

Aunt May's eyes watered. "A burglar broke into the house, Peter!" she cried. "He wasn't expecting us to be there. Ben… Ben wrestled with him, but he had a gun."

Peter's eyes widened and he gaped at his aunt as the most logical picture entered his mind. "Is Uncle Ben-?" he tried to ask, but he couldn't finish the question, he didn't want to.

May realised where her nephew was going with this and shook her head. "No," she reassured her nephew. "He's alive, but he was shot in the chest. The paramedics say he is going to make it since the bullet was aimed in his ribcage. The burglar ran out of the house, grabbed Ben's car keys and stole it. He didn't bother with anything else."

May spoke with a quiet raspy voice that was so soft and yet close to her usual tone, indicating she was still in shock over what had happened to her and her husband in their home.

Peter closed his eyes and then reopened them again. "Where's the burglar who did this?" he asked, trying to rein his leopard side in, but it was so hard because of what he'd just learnt. He wanted to charge out into the night and find the bastard and make him pay for what he'd done.

"The police have cornered him, but they won't tell me where," May replied with something in her expression that told Peter she didn't care either where the burglar was as long as he was far from them.

Peter was about to let May go when the older woman suddenly wrapped her arms around him desperately. "Please Peter, don't leave," she begged. "I want to go with the ambulance to the hospital, be with Ben…"

"Of course," Peter whispered and he closed his eyes in shame for wanting to leave his aunt who had been the closest thing he'd ever had to a mother since his own mother had died years ago before he was old enough to remember the circumstances. He was ashamed because he had been so prepared to leave his aunt after what she'd just gone through when he hadn't even been at the house in the first place. He kicked himself for going jogging….

In the end, Peter just held his aunt tighter. He didn't let go even when he boarded the ambulance and sat next to her.

* * *

Until the next time...

Please tell me what you think because I did do my best with this chapter. Sorry about the authors note, but I meant it.


	8. Chapter 8 What have I done?

Disclaimer - I don't own Spider-Man or the characters. Marvel comics do.

Please leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter stood next to his Aunt May as a tower of strength while they stood in a room in the police station that Peter had only expected to see in police films and tv shows. Peter was surprised the police were going to all this trouble to catch the burglar who'd attacked his uncle and aunt, but apparently, they had been responding to reports about a man with a very broad description that could apply to a hundred different people.

From what the police said when they had approached the Parkers to arrange this identity parade they had captured a man answering the description of the bastard who'd injured his uncle, but they had also caught a few others who had the same description. The police wanted to match the face of the man with the same one caught on so many CCTV tapes they'd collected from previous robberies.

Peter had wondered if the police were putting too much faith into matching the man to those robberies, but apparently, the police had been chasing this man for such a brief time they just wanted to see if it was him. Anyway, he hadn't bothered with saying anything on the matter while he stood with his aunt.

Uncle Ben was still in the hospital so he could recover from the chest shot and although Aunt May would have been happier if they put this awful business behind them, even she wanted justice. Peter could not blame her, but she couldn't do it alone. She had even rung the Principal of Midtown High to let them know he wouldn't be at the school. Peter had been surprised when he found out what she'd planned to do, but in a way, he was quite glad since he just wanted to have a day where he didn't have to worry about the current mess at the school. Peter understood why this was so important to his aunt, and he had agreed to come with her to make sure she was okay while she went to the identity parade. He just wished he felt comfortable here.

Being in the police station brought some very unpleasant memories of how terrified he had been when he had gained his leopard abilities and that mess with the muggers hadn't helped, but Peter was calm since he knew he wasn't the one being scrutinised today, though it was not far away from his mind at the moment. Peter followed his aunt and one of the detectives, a pleasant-faced young woman perhaps a few years older than he was, with her long dark hair in a tight and neat ponytail. When they had arrived, she had come and introduced herself as Detective Connelly, and now she was leading them into the room adjoining the one where the parade would be taking place.

Peter looked through the pane of glass separating them from the line of men inside, and he was taken by surprise by how similar in appearance all of them were. Okay, so they had varying heights and their clothes were different though similar to what he'd learnt about the man who'd broken into their house, through the window, Peter could see the worn quality of their clothes.

Meanwhile, Aunt May was looking at them carefully while she slipped on her glasses to get a better look at them to jog her memory of the man who'd broken into the safety of her own home and shot her husband. Peter stood next to his aunt, hoping to reassure her with his presence while she carefully studied each of the men standing in the line.

Aunt May didn't just point out a man and say "that's the one," no, she was more careful than that. She took her time with each man, but when she was finished with the line she turned her attention to the first one and worked her way along. Peter had noticed his aunt had seemed to recognise one of the men because she had started, and judging from the way Detective Connelly had looked closely at her, the police officer had noticed it as well as she was trained to see things like that.

Finally, May nodded at one of the men, pointing a finger at him through the glass to make them see who she was gesturing to. "That's him," she said calmly, but Peter could hear the undertone of her voice trembling.

Detective Connelly looked at the man Aunt May was pointing at and then glanced back at the older woman. "Are you certain, May?" she asked calmly, making it clear with her tone she wasn't asking to be patronising, that Aunt May was an old woman with a pair of failing eyes unable to truly tell the differences between one man from the rest of the other similar looking characters on the other side of the glass in the other room, but more like a person making sure the facts were right.

Fortunately, Aunt May was certain and she had noticed the detective's tone clearly. "I'm positive," she replied, "I saw his face clearly, but I needed time to get my thoughts together; the attack happened quickly, but he paused when he tried to jump over Ben's body, but Ben managed to grab hold of his leg and he was swung round so I caught a good look at his eyes and his general features."

Meanwhile, Peter was looking at the man his aunt had picked out, and he realised with growing horror he knew this man himself. His mind was replaying that robbery he'd seen the other day on his way home from work, and how he had gotten a good look at the man who raced down the street and out of sight before anyone could stop him. Peter remembered how he had wrestled with his conscience and the memories of how that woman and her child had called him a mutant freak before he had decided not to do anything when he was more than capable of stopping the bastard in his tracks.

He wished he had now.

Peter shook himself out of his self-loathing induced reverie when he felt a hand on his shoulder and he only just managed to stop himself lashing out. His leopard-enhanced emotions were clawing their way out, so they were difficult to control, and he turned to face who had touched him and found himself looking into the concerned eyes of his aunt.

"Peter, is everything all right, dear?" she asked.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. What's going to happen now?" he asked, hoping no-one else asked him what was wrong as he fought to control the urge to rip through the glass and attack the bastard he had failed to stop, treating his leopard-temper with human rationality with the facts Uncle Ben was okay, he would recover.

"Well, this guy is wanted in connection for a number of burglaries and armed robberies, shooting with a weapon and homicide," Detective Connelly said gravely, her voice making it more than clear to the Parkers that Uncle Ben was lucky, really lucky, to still be alive. "But a few others in the queue are also guilty of similar crimes. That's why we set up this parade. The good news is this man has been positively identified as the robber who has been prolific in several robberies in Manhattan, not just in Queens."

Peter turned his head so he could see the man, wanting nothing more than to leap through the glass and tear the bastard apart. "Yeah," she said neutrally, "that is good news."

* * *

Hours later when he and his aunt were visiting the hospital to see Uncle Ben, Peter was engrossed in the schoolwork he still had that needed attending too. He had asked his aunt for permission to bring the homework with him so then he'd have the opportunity to do it when they got to the hospital to see Uncle Ben so then he could get the majority of it done while he kept her company. Fortunately for him, Aunt May knew how important his schoolwork was to him and how he wanted to do well in college, but she was also aware that while Peter was great with her he was also prone to read when he was bored. Personally, at that point, Peter didn't really care if his aunt was hurt by his focus on his schoolwork. In truth, Peter didn't give much thought at all to his work, not after what they'd just learnt. In his current state of mind, the schoolwork could go and hang for all he cared because he had a lot more on his mind he would rather have done without.

Guilt was his number one thought at the moment.

He'd had the chance to stop the burglar from injuring Uncle Ben. He had the chance, but because he had been thinking only about himself like he had been for so long ever since he had felt sorry for himself when he was still fantasising about Mary Jane and how he'd been brought down a number of pegs when that woman and her kid had called him a mutant freak when he'd tried to help them from those muggers.

A superstitious part of Peter, the part that had been told smashing a mirror even if by accident resulted in seven years of bad luck, the one where things happened for no reason, and even applied to when he had gone to Oscorp and had his heart shattered by Mary Jane. But he had already started to wonder and ask himself if there would be anything between them before she had said what she had said, only to be put through an alien teleportation machine and having his genes mixed with leopard DNA, though in this case, he wondered if something was pushing him down a certain path by having him ignore a problem only for his uncle to pay the price.

It certainly warred with the part of Peter that excelled at science, mathematics, and computer technology to believe or even imagine there was some higher being playing games with his life, though the thought that someone had given him these leopard abilities and had given him something to do only for him to not do it, only to have Uncle Ben injured as a result was enough to make him scoff.

It had been days since that night he had walked home from work and the robbery had taken place. Peter had asked Detective Connelly if the man had burgled/robbed anyone else when he'd asked her to tell them what he'd done. Fortunately, the police officer hadn't seemed concerned or even suspicious about the question since he had made it sound like he was just looking for information, clarifying that he wanted to know more about the burglars past.

He had burgled at least twelve different businesses and people in a consistent pattern around queens. In fact, he had burgled a house not far from the Parkers home, but the house owner had returned and they'd gotten into a fight. The burglar, apparently took a shot at him, only to be shot at by the homeowner and the burglar had made a run for it, chased by the homeowner. So the burglar had been desperate for a means of escape. The gun-happy homeowner had practically chased him to the Parker house, and since he had managed to keep him away from some of the other cars out there it was just blind coincidence the burglar had broken into their home, and the end was history.

Peter closed his eyes and reopened them again and focused on his work, and he sighed under his breath when he saw he hadn't really done any actual work even with most of his concentration focused on his own guilty thoughts. Leaning back in his seat, he glanced at Aunt May, but she was too busy reading her magazine (out of date) to honestly notice his notice, so he quickly averted his eyes and he looked down at his work. He wanted to get the work done, give his mind something else to occupy his thoughts, but his heart wasn't in it. Peter was just too deep in thought about what could have happened to Uncle Ben since the robber was clearly capable of murder, and the fact he could have stopped him in the first place.

He quickly shook his head, glancing out of the corner of his eye in case Aunt May saw it and asked what was wrong.

Once more he was wondering if what had happened was coincidence or fate.

Peter didn't know, but he quickly decided not to dwell on the matter; philosophers had been asking themselves for centuries about such things, and he doubted he could do anything to contribute. All he could do now was be thankful his Uncle Ben was still alive. Injured, but alive. And surprisingly when the thought entered his mind, he had to admit it had been days since the burglar had broken in and attacked Ben and May. He didn't automatically head towards his uncle and aunt.

Peter sighed when he realised he wasn't getting anywhere with his work, so he decided to give up for now and think. He realised his earlier stance on not becoming a superhero was still there. It just did not appeal to him, especially now. He didn't feel heroic, and he doubted he ever would, but as he thought about the current nightmare he and his family were in now, he could see it could have been avoided.

No more. If he came across a robber with a gun, they were going down. That was it. He had no intention of running around dressed in some stupid costume while playing the hero - that was for the Avengers or the Fantastic Four or one of the more independent heroes, getting enemies all the time, but he was still trying to work out what he was going to do with his abilities. He could just accept them as part of his everyday life, use his enhanced strength to do the heavy lifting, perhaps?

Peter mentally groaned. That didn't appeal to him either, then again it never had. He didn't want to become a hero. He found he genuinely did not care about going all out since being a hero was overrated. He closed his eyes as he remembered how he had fought with his indecision the night before. Oh, that had been fun, he remembered, going online and finding that website that attacked superheroes from Mr Fantastic to Captain America himself even, how they caused more trouble by looking for it.

He didn't want to live like that. Uncle Ben had only just managed to survive, barely. What about next time if he decided to become a superhero? He and Aunt May could be murdered by one of those so-called "supervillains" all because he had been careless.

* * *

Uncle Ben was worried. While he was relieved he had survived the wound that bastard robber had given him, he just hated being in this hospital bed with nothing meaningful to do. Ben Parker had always been someone who preferred doing stuff instead of not doing anything, so he had become extremely bored lying here.

But that wasn't what he was worried about. He was worried about the house, but that wasn't at the top of his priorities right now, though he was worried about his wife as well; May was upset about what had happened, and she was right to be upset since their home had been broken into and he had been shot. No, he was worried about Peter.

Ben and May were not stupid. They had noticed something was bugging their nephew for a while ever since that day Peter and his class had gone to Oscorp on that trip. Not only had Mary Jane Watson's words ripped what little self-esteem Peter had, but it had eventually spiralled out of control when Peter had injured Flash Thompson, though Ben was not completely sad about that even if it was out of character for Peter to injure anyone.

But what hurt him the most was that Peter would not sit down and actually tell them what the matter was.

His worries for his nephew were growing because Peter looked like he wished he was anywhere but in the room, the hospital had given him while he recovered after being shot. Some might say it was because the boy was upset about what had happened, but Ben couldn't help but feel that something major was the cause of Peter's attitude.

It felt like…..guilt, though whatever it was Peter felt he was guilty of, Ben had no idea.

* * *

Don't worry - Peter will soon make his choice. Until the next time...


	9. Chapter 9 Schemes and Strategies

I don't own Spider-Man or the characters, Marvel does.

For those reviewers who think Peter is going to be a vigilante, think again. This chapter is the start of the rest of Peter's life.

Please leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter had no time to think about what he had done wrong because he was soon faced with the enormity of how much he was needed in the family at the moment. Uncle Ben was the main breadwinner in the family. Oh, Aunt May had a job of her own when she wasn't at the house, but it didn't pay a great deal which was one of the reasons why Peter was tempted to just drop out of High School and work at the locksmith's full time, but Aunt May had stopped him when he had stupidly brought it up.

He had just been numb with shock over what had happened, and his own role in things. If only he hadn't….

When Aunt May learnt what he had in mind, she instantly flew into a rare rage. She had told Peter he was going to finish school, and that he shouldn't pay any attention to the bills they had, though Peter wished it was as simple as that.

Peter was not stupid. He had seen some of the bills that came in long before this mess even happened, and while the Parkers were okay in some areas, they weren't in others which were one of the reasons why Uncle Ben had made sure he had work coming in occasionally for Peter.

It was just too bad his new job didn't pay too much. While Mr Hall was more than sympathetic for Ben and had even generously offered to extend Peter's time at the shop, he couldn't pay him extra. It was annoying, but Peter accepted it so as a result, he spent every spare moment he could looking for a new job. There was no way this one locksmith job would be enough to help him get through college, and he and his family were aware of that. They had encouraged him to look for work, with Uncle Ben giving him helpful tips on how to ace an interview. Peter's original plan was to stick with the locksmithing job for a bit while he looked for work in the newspaper or online before he began applying for them before he graduated from High School and hopefully received a reply before he started at Empire State.

But things had changed. Uncle Ben's stay in the hospital would not last long, but when he did come out in a few days time he would need time to get back into the swing of things, so it was down to Peter to be the main breadwinner in the family. As he packed up his homework and got ready to get to school, Peter rubbed his eyes and sighed. He hadn't been getting much sleep since his uncle had been shot, and it had gotten worse ever since the identity parade because of all of the stress and the guilt he had piled up in his mind because of how he'd failed to stop the burglar from shooting Uncle Ben even though he knew he couldn't have known. But he was still guilty.

"Peter? It's time to get going!" Aunt May called up the stairs.

"Okay," Peter called back, and he picked up his coat and his bag and headed downstairs, determined to push aside his mood and focus on the day, though he grimaced as he walked down the stairs, feeling his fatigue wear him away even with his leopard strength sustaining him. He was not looking forward to a day at school. Ever since he'd had that fight with Flash, the entire school had been walking on tenterhooks with him, and all of those girls he'd once had an interest in at some point before he'd dropped it had been fawning around him, but with the injury Uncle Ben had received the other kids at the school had no idea how to act around him. Not that he cared. He counted the days. He only had another few weeks before he left the school, and then he would hopefully never see any of them again, especially Mary Jane and Flash…

But as he got no more than halfway down the stairs, Peter had a terrible surprise. There, sitting on the couch was Mary Jane's aunt, Anna. Peter sighed in irritation when he locked eyes with her. "Good morning, Mrs Watson," he greeted her when he saw how she was eyeing him beadily. He had never liked the woman. In his eyes, she was an opinionated woman who didn't care about who was listening to her opinions. Peter had had to overhear the woman comment on him and his appearance ever since Uncle Ben had been shot, how he should look presentable. What the whole mess had to do with her, he had no idea. Peter was so tempted to grab a piece of furniture and smash it into the woman's head.

"Peter," the woman greeted.

Aunt May appeared. "I'll see you later," she said, walking over to him and kissing him on the cheek. "Have a good day, and try not to push yourself when you work."

"I'll do my best," Peter replied, scowling when he saw the sneer on Anna Watson's face. "Anyway, bye."

He got out of the house before he said something he would regret or more likely Anna would say something nasty while his aunt was either oblivious or she spoke up in his defence before he headed towards the bus stop hoping to get there before the sadistic driver drove off. The way Peter was feeling right now, he no longer cared if he murdered someone right about now, and the driver would be a nice person to kill for him. Fortunately, his aunt had gotten him out when she did, because the bus turned up two minutes after he arrived.

Peter boarded the bus, preparing himself for another boring day.

* * *

Ben Parker was making himself a mug of coffee, relieved to be back home, and yet feeling useless for being injured. He had been back home for a day and a half, and already he could see the strain on Peter's face for what had happened to him. As he was making his coffee he overheard the voices of May and Anna Watson in the sitting room.

"I'm worried about Peter, Anna," he heard May say. "He's working himself to death."

"He's selfish. Instead of coming straight home, and taking care of you and Ben, he's out doing heaven alone knows what."

Ben was beginning to lose his temper. This ignorant bitch was making opinions about his nephew who was the only one supporting the family at the moment, while May's job paid a pittance.

Fortunately, May was there to defend Peter to the hilt. "Now, Anna, that is not true!" May chided. "Peter is actually working long and hard to help us."

"I didn't mean it like that," Anna simpered, though how on Earth she expected May to fall for it, Ben had no idea, she did.

"I know, Anna," May said.

Anna pressed her advantage now she knew what not to say. "I was just saying that Peter is a young man. He should be partying and having a good time, instead of working all the time."

Ben clenched his good fist angrily. Peter worked long and hard to make something of his life, not like those other kids at Midtown High. But truthfully it wasn't as though he personally had the right to be angry. He had tried many times over the years to make Peter outgoing, but it hadn't worked. But he was just angry that someone who didn't know Peter, who disliked him and didn't really try to hide it was talking about the young lad like she knew what he was like.

And the worst of it was May seemed to be swallowing Anna's opinions. "I do worry about him," he heard his wife confess though why she was telling the woman this was beyond Ben's comprehension.

"Why don't we make Peter see life like that then?" Anna asked, her voice putting on a tone Ben took to assume she was trying to be compelling, but to him, it sounded fake.

"What do you mean?" Once more May fell for it, hook, line and sinker.

But surprisingly Anna would not say. "Let me look into it for a bit," she said.

When Anna was gone, Ben walked into the kitchen and looked at his wife, not even trying to hide his annoyance. "Why do you do that?" he asked without preamble or tact.

May blinked at him in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"You let that old bitch spew opinions about how Peter is lazy, unmotivated and selfish when he has done more for us in the last few weeks than she has. How Peter has practically worked himself to the bone, just to keep us afloat and how he works so hard to get somewhere in life."

May glared at him. "Anna is one of my friends-," she protested.

Ben couldn't help himself, he laughed scornfully. "Right. You're friends with a gossip who has something in mind for our nephew. I can guarantee it will not go down well."

* * *

Peter was working in the locksmith's office working on the company's accounts, transferring it to a spreadsheet, so he had his back turned to the door. He was relieved that he had become trusted enough in the business to do this kind of work, and besides it gave him the chance to work quietly without having to deal with the customers. Ever since Uncle Ben's injury, Peter had become increasingly irritated with everyone outside his immediate family.

Luckily the boss was an understanding man who had allowed him to move back into the administration part of the business and didn't ask why.

Peter was happy about that since he wanted peace and quiet, and besides with access to the computer in the office, he was able to check on the local job websites to see if there was anything new on the grapevine.

He was startled out of his work for a second before he relaxed. It was only someone at the office door. Someone was about to come in. When the door opened and Mr Hall strolled in with one of the other employees, he kept working unless the boss told him otherwise. But at the moment Hall was too busy speaking to one of his employees, and they both sounded frustrated.

"Are you sure that's what Mrs Capshaw said?" the employee Peter was sure was called Tony asked in frustration.

Mr Hall's voice was just as annoyed. "Yeah," he replied. "She cancelled our appraisal of her house in Brooklyn Heights, and its security because she thought our rates were too high, so she decided to go with a cheaper locksmith."

The other guy snorted. "Yeah, like that's the solution. A cheaper locksmith? Why she's got more money than what we earn in a year, and besides, she has that fucking jewellery collection. I thought she wanted the place to be a smaller version of Fort Knox."

"That's what I thought, but you know she isn't completely with it. We're going to have to accept it. I did try to change her mind, persuade her that we're the business she wants, but she was adamant."

"Great, a nice commission missed."

The two men left the office, both of them missing Peter since they'd been so wrapped up in their conversation and the frustration of a customer pulling out meaning there was no commission. But Peter didn't care since he was too busy thinking about what he'd just head, and words jumped out in front of his mind. Jewellery collection. Money. House.

Quickly Peter checked the company's records for the woman, thankful that he had the name. He had found out the company kept computerised records of all of their customers and their needs. They had moved with the times, so if something ever went wrong with their locks like they had suffered from a burglary or a key had snapped in the lock, they could contact the locksmiths and have someone pop round to sort it out. The records contained basic details such as the name and the address. It only took Peter a moment to find Mrs Capshaw's file. It had been written a few weeks before, and he vaguely remembered hearing about it, some rich woman calling around for a change of locks on her new apartment, but that was it. Once he found the file, Peter printed it out without a moment's hesitation after he briefly checked them out. But as he was photocopying the file and after he stapled it together, he couldn't help but wonder what he was doing.

Surely he wasn't planning…. on stealing the jewellery, right? Peter couldn't believe what he was thinking, especially after what had recently happened, but truthfully the moment he heard his employer and his colleague talk while paying him little attention, it was like a lightbulb had lit up inside his brain. For weeks ever since that Oscorp trip and the teleportation machine splicing Leopard DNA into his body, Peter had been trying to think about what to do with his abilities.

But burglary? There was no chance he was ever going to be like the thug who had injured Uncle Ben and could very well have murdered him which would have made him feel worse, but he knew if he was caught….. If he was caught then Aunt May and Uncle Ben would suffer for it.

Peter sighed as his indecision fought it out with the need to do this. He looked at the file, and shoved it into his rucksack and went back to work, making sure to cover his tracks so no-one knew what he'd been doing.

When it was time to go home, Peter left his mind on the file and the address. The woman was living in Brooklyn Heights, in a house, so it would take him ages to reach if he went out there. Peter just sighed and gave up on the idea, but somehow he could not get rid of it. Now it was in his mind, it was tempting and the possibilities were warring with the good little boy raised by two good people.

* * *

The idea of simply committing a burglary to solve his family's problems would simply not go away. It was simply because of the stress of recent events coupled with the family's financial problems made it extremely tempting. As the week passed as he carried on with his job and his job search which he would desperately need by the time college rolled around and had to endure High School even more while he ignored the rest of his peers as he got ready for the dream of graduation, Peter's temptation grew and grew.

Unfortunately, while he was doing this, he was just as aware of how often Anna Watson was visiting his aunt. Peter paid it no mind. He had always ignored the woman and her arrogance in the past, and besides with all of his current problems that never seemed to end coupled with the temptation of committing a burglary of a rich woman, as well as the wrestling with his conscience Peter didn't really pay the woman much mind.

He did pity Uncle Ben. Like himself, Ben had never liked the woman and they both could not understand or grasp why Aunt May liked the woman so much.

But for the moment Peter decided to just ignore the old bag and get on with his life. He had far too much on his mind to worry about someone like her.

In the end, the final clincher for Peter's little war was when a letter arrived in the post. Aunt May tried to hide it from her, but after a few minutes of persuasion, he managed to prise the truth out of Uncle Ben. It was a bill demanding a large amount of money, but it wasn't the only one. There were other bills, and though the Parkers were still a long way from getting their electricity and water shut off among other things, Peter understood the problem only too well.

On a Saturday when he was free, he went downstairs and once more found Anna Watson in the house. Peter only spared the woman a brief hello before he went to speak to his Uncle Ben. He had told his Aunt and Uncle he was planning on heading into the city to post some of his resumes around town in the hopes of getting fresh work. Aunt May didn't like the idea of him being gone all day, but there was little she could do about it. Uncle Ben was the only one out of the two who believed it was a good move.

Uncle Ben smiled at him as he took in the sight of his nephew. Peter was dressed casually in jeans, jacket and jumper, and he had his rucksack on his back though it looked quite thin, he knew it held copies of Peter's CV inside it. He handed Peter a couple of muffins for breakfast, and the teenager took them, feeling slightly guilty since things were tight.

"You're going early," Ben commented.

"Yes, I want to try to beat the morning rush. I should be in the city for a few hours," Peter said before he began munching on the muffins.

Anna Watson scoffed. "If you ask me, you should wait until you are actually in college before you look for a job," the woman said, "after all, what is the rush? I mean, your uncle has just survived a near-death experience, but you want to avoid taking responsibility-"

Peter wanted to kill her. He wanted to rip the woman into different pieces for that. "How dare you!" he snapped loudly, startling Anna, who recoiled at the harshness of his tone. "I'm trying to keep this family going. Besides what does it have to do with you?"

"Peter!" May chided.

"No, May," Ben was instantly defending Peter. He wasn't going to let this pompous bitch. "He's right," he said as he walked into the living room, looking between his embarrassed wife and her friend whose expression said it all, that she had realised she had overstepped her boundaries, but she had been doing that for a long time. "Peter has been working long and hard trying to find extra work on top of his school work and the job I got for him, and besides we need every penny we can get our hands on. You know that Anna," he sent a glare at the woman sitting there, drinking their tea and eating their biscuits without a care in the world. "Besides, Peter was going to look for work anyway, and we need the income before I can head back to work myself."

May looked down and nodded as she accepted the logic, but Peter felt sorry for his uncle. He knew his aunt well enough to know she would be having a few words with both of the men in her life. Well, he would be facing that when it came. Peter was just grateful his uncle had stepped in before he himself did something he would have regretted later.

"Well, I'd better be going," he said, and he slipped out of the house, leaving the inhabitants and the visitor behind. Ben shook his head and went back into the kitchen. He had to get away from the woman, although he knew it was impossible. But he felt it was a room away he could pretend she wasn't there before she left.

Half an hour after Peter had left, Ben heard Anna start speaking again. He rolled his eyes at the woman's need to talk.

"You see? That's what I was trying to tell you, May," she was saying, "That boy works too hard."

"I know, but they're also right. We need the money," He heard May say. He was slightly surprised to hear his wife say that to anyone. May preferred to take an out of sight, out of mind view of their financial issues, but he guessed what had happened had made her see the reality that it could not be hidden.

But Ben would have preferred it if May didn't admit it to Anna. There was no telling what she would do with that kind of information, though truthfully it wasn't really a secret they were in trouble.

"But surely you're worried about him?" Anna asked, and Ben could literally see the smirk on the woman's face which she would have been wearing if she hadn't been trying to sound sympathetic.

"I am," May fretted, and Ben closed his eyes in exasperation.

"I think a girlfriend is something Peter needs."

What? Ben was amazed that the woman would come up with something like this, and he couldn't work out what she was hoping to gain. It didn't take him long to work out who she had in mind to become Peter's girlfriend. There was only one option, after all.

"Oh, I have wanted Peter to have a bit of romance in his life. He once fancied Mary Jane, your niece, as I told you, but it didn't go well."

"Actually it was Mary Jane I had in mind, May, dear," Anna replied, though Ben thought he could hear the slight tinge of curiosity in her voice at the last part of May's reply. "She has been telling me that she has been thinking of dumping her current boyfriend for a while."

Ben was furious with Anna and Mary Jane. Anna because she was trying to conduct this whole thing for reasons he couldn't work out, Mary Jane for being so quick to dump her boyfriend though he didn't know why. Teenagers nowadays were unpredictable, and he couldn't work out what was going on in their minds. What really angered him was May; she knew Peter had been heartbroken by Mary Jane's words at Oscorp, but the kid had managed to get over it, though he did wonder what Peter's long term plans for romance were though it was likely Peter had too much on his mind to worry about things like that.

As if echoing Ben's thoughts, May's next words were spoken uncertainly. "I don't know, Anna," she began, "Mary Jane was apparently horrible to Peter on the trip their class took to Oscorp Industries, like that horrid Thompson boy-,"

"She didn't mean it," Anna replied quickly and Ben wondered how his wife could be so gullible, and he couldn't help but ask himself if May had lost perspective over how other people thought to make her so malleable to Anna. "She said she was trying to protect Peter from Flash's attention."

Ben wondered if that was the truth. He knew Peter had taken to avoiding and isolating himself from his peers at the school, though he could not be blamed for that given how he'd been treated in the past, but if Mary Jane had wanted to she could have easily knocked on the door and told them the full story, but she hadn't done that. They were next door neighbours for goodness sake.

As he listened to the two old women, Ben hoped that this did not end badly because if it did and Peter was humiliated, he would likely find it hard to forgive his aunt who was only trying to look out for him and give him happiness. It wouldn't work if it blew up in their faces.

* * *

As he stood close to the block of apartments where the woman Mrs Capshaw lived, Peter could not help but feel just how well this day had gone. He had told his aunt and uncle the truth about coming into the city to look for work since online applications was just one side of the equation since most shops and bars didn't advertise online and preferred face to face contact, and he had printed off over two dozen or so copies of his resume to give out though whether he'd get anything, he didn't know.

In the meantime, he worked closer to Brooklyn Heights and he was now casing the joint. It had been easy to find the house's location. It didn't look that dissimilar to other houses in this part of the city, and as he surveyed the area like going around the back of the building and using his leopard abilities to hide, he learnt a great deal about the premises.

As he wrote down his observations about the place in the small notebook he'd brought with him to note down the names of the places he'd posted his details and his interest in looking for work but also to note down the observations he'd made so far, Peter felt he could do this.

He was going to become a burglar. Oh, he was not going to be anything like the man who'd injured Uncle Ben. No, he would be a cat burglar.

Peter chuckled at the pun.

* * *

Until the next time...


	10. Chapter 10 The First Rush

Disclaimer - I don't own Spider-Man. Marvel Comics does.

Please leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Holding the phone in his hand, the phone number for Mrs Capshaw's house glowing on the screen, Peter knew there was still time for him to drop the whole thing and go home.

He had come into the city again as he'd done frequently for the last couple of weeks to post his resume around town, and his aunt and uncle knew he was out here on one of his days off work. Indeed he had spoken to them shortly before delivering the last batch of resumes as close to the streets where Mrs Capshaw lived. He'd checked them all out online when he had been researching this part of the city in order to cover up his burglary, but Peter hadn't carried out the main part of the plan yet.

There was still time for him to turn back, but his feet were rooted to the ground in his indecision. In his bag, he had some bits and pieces to make this burglary work after spending time at the locksmiths where he'd had access to the knowledge of the professionals.

Peter had been standing there for five minutes, wracked with indecision while he stood in the shadows of the street though the light from the phone screen was probably showing everyone nearby he was there.

He wasn't sure if he could actually go through with his plans to burgle someone else's home, especially after his uncle was shot by someone who had no qualm about waving a gun around and stealing whatever he could get. His uncle was now back at work again, so the pressure had been slightly lessened from Peter's shoulder. A part of him snidely wished Ben was still off work so his decision and choices were already preordained.

He should never have waited so long to burgle this woman's house, he decided before the sound of a car's brakes screeching not that far away and the yowl of a startled cat snapped him out of his thoughts, and he decided to just get it over and done with, believing the sooner he got this over and done with, the better. He had been fighting with his conscience for five minutes, wasting his own time while thinking about the finer points of morality in the process.

One thing was for sure, he knew if he didn't go through with Mrs Capshaw tonight, Peter had no idea if another golden opportunity ever came his way again for the second time. He didn't know what Mrs Capshaw's intentions where to the security of her home, but while he didn't care one bit about whether or not the locks were cheap or not, he knew someone else, someone with fewer qualms about burglary might decide to burgle the house she lived in before he did, and he would have missed the chance because he had been wrestling with his conscience.

Peter decided to take a chance.

Slipping out of sight and walking down the street with the mobile pressed against his ear, Peter let the phone ring as he dialled the number, making sure that his phone number wouldn't be registered by the police. As it rang and he listened to the slowly irritating sound, Peter fought with his own indecision while he waited. And he waited and he waited. In the end, there was nothing, no response, no answering machine… Nothing.

Peter ended the call and he slipped into the shadows of the street and he walked down the road, staying as far from the streetlights as he could, moving slowly and silently over the cowlings over the doorways of the opposite side of the street, while he relied upon his leopard abilities to make sure he was close enough to Mrs Capshaws' house so he could see if there were any lights on or not, while at the same time using his enhanced senses to make sure he was not seen by anyone to see him through, however the smells coming from the city and everything else made it hard for him to tell if there was anyone else nearby.

Fortunately, Peter didn't need to go too far down the street to find out if there were any lights on in the house. He only had to go down a few feet of the street before he had a good enough view. True he had needed to stop on top of the cowlings a couple of times to get a clear enough view of the Capshaw house, but when he passed down a few houses, Peter got what he wanted. There were no lights on in the Capshaw house. She was out. Reassured no-one was home, Peter returned to the end of the street before he noticed, to his annoyance, a large and thick drainpipe. He looked at it with wide eyes and he mentally kicked himself harshly for not bothering to look around the street properly for a way to make sure there wasn't a quicker route down the street so he could reach the house Mrs Capshaw was living in and then coming back in half the time it had taken him originally in the first place. But then again it had seriously not occurred to him to look around the neighbourhood besides just the house. Peter had always assumed when criminals studied the surroundings, they would just study the target. He was now beginning to realise they paid more in-depth attention to the streets to find routes of escape, places to hide, and vantage points. He could have found all these when he had first arrived, but no, he had to find it out at the last minute.

Pushing aside his annoyance, Peter slowly made his way back down the alleyway, slipping on the black face mask he had hastily made a couple of days ago for this burglary. As he reached Mrs Capshaws' house, he slipped over the wall into her backyard and jumped down into her garden. He took a deep breath, noting the different plants but he couldn't tell if the woman had any kind of pet, like a dog. Slipping his hand back into his pocket, Peter took out his mobile phone and tried the number again, making sure once again his number did not register. In the backyard of the house he was planning on breaking into, Peter waited for a minute as the phone kept ringing, but there was no reply.

Good, he thought to himself, there's still no-one home. Slipping on his gloves, Peter moved on.

Moving swiftly and quietly towards the backdoor, Peter examined the lock for a second before he pulled out his tools out of his bag and got to work. In the hands of a professional locksmith, the lock would be snapped easily, but in the hands of Peter, who had the strength of a leopard to back him up, the lock was open within moments. Picking up the pieces of the lock and shoving them into his pocket, Peter strode into the house.

The moment he walked through his door, his nose picked something up, and he needed a few minutes to identify it as alcohol. It smelled musty, and he couldn't tell if it was fresh or days old, but he didn't care. He didn't care if the woman who lived here was an alcoholic. It was irrelevant to him since he was here to commit a burglary. With a shrug of his shoulders, Peter walked deeper into the house. As he did his leopard enhanced vision allowed him to see the interior of the house well enough without needing to turn on the light, though he did need to fight the instinctive human urge to turn the lights on.

Walking through the house with the grace of a cat, Peter looked around the kitchen, the living room with the bookshelves stacked with books, DVDs, CDs, and a massive television shoved into a corner. The living room was neat and tidy. It showed few signs of having an alcoholic living here.

Peter stood there studying the living room before he walked off before he stopped. He thought he'd just heard something upstairs, and he tensed instinctively, and he quickly stamped down his good boy instinct to run away or think the worst of what the source of the sound was, and he slowly moved towards the stairs.

When he got to the hall, Peter found a row of coats on hooks, and even in the dim light coming from the outside street lamps, Peter could clearly see the shape of the woman's handbag. Reaching for it, Peter opened it and examined the contents of the handbag. He found the woman's purse and decided to have a look at it in a moment. He found a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a bunch of keys on a ring, a pack of chewing gum, ID and a driver's license, some pawn tickets…

Dismissing the handbag, Peter went through the purse. There was quite a bit of cash inside. As he took the money out of the purse, Peter couldn't help but feel it was a rather exorbitant amount, but that was okay. He put it inside his coat pocket and he dropped the purse on the small table near the door, and he walked upstairs. The grainy, musty smell of alcohol was stronger as he walked up the stairs. When he reached the landing, the smell of stale liquor was stronger up here than anything else, and he walked into the bathroom first and opened up the cabinet. He had read online burglars usually stole prescription drugs from homeowners to sell for some extra cash. It was amazing just how many people would buy prescription drugs, but Peter was reluctant to take them since it might give the police leads he didn't need.

Peter walked out of the bathroom and went to the next room, this time it was an office area with a long desk with a chair in front of it, with a computer mounted in the middle sitting next to a printer. On one of the long shelves, Peter could see clearly the row of files arranged neatly along it. He looked at them for a moment, wondering if he should risk it…

He knew thanks to his research into burglary that many homeowners tended to keep their precious valuables in hiding places if they were afraid of burglary, though he wasn't sure if this particular homeowner had the same paranoia. Still, he decided to get it over and done with. He wanted this burglary to go well without any kind of hitches, and he wanted to get his mind into that of the professional burglar who would not leave a stone unturned, or in this case a file unopened, but he didn't want to be here long.

He opened a few of the files carefully and went through them. He didn't find any money in any of them, so he decided not to keep looking, but when he opened the desk drawers he found a small box filled with dollar bills and some loose change. That went into the bag. Tired of being in the office, Peter walked out of the workroom, mentally rewinding his memory to see if he'd left any of his DNA in there, but he couldn't think of any moment where he'd been careless enough to do so. When he walked to the door where the smell of alcohol was stronger and more mustier than before though he had been aware of how strong it was when he'd reached the top of the stairs.

He was just about to open the door when he thought he heard something coming from the other side. It sounded like….breathing. Peter pressed his covered ear to the door, listening. The sound was quite weak, and he stiffened with horror as he realised there was someone else in the house with him. The realisation that he wasn't alone was enough to bring his back up, but from the sounds of it whoever it was in the house with him sounded like they were deep asleep.

Peter frowned as he racked his brains, trying to remember if Mrs Capshaw had a husband, but he couldn't recall anything like that from the printout he'd taken from the records of the locksmith company. Part of him, the part that was still the cautious goody-two-shoes, wanted him to leave but after a moment Peter reached out so he could open the door to the bedroom. The stench of alcohol hit him but he had become used to the strength of it already.

Deciding to risk it, Peter pulled out the small torch he was carrying in his pocket. He had learnt a while ago that his vision was capable of seeing better at night because leopards were naturally adapted to hunt during the night as well as during the daytime, but he had learnt the enhanced vision needed some light to stream in otherwise he wouldn't be able to see. With that in mind, he had brought the torch when he had prepared for the burglary in advanced. He was glad he had; the room was so dark and there was little ambient light pouring into the bedroom from the window or from the hallway outside so Peter could barely see more than a few feet before him.

He didn't want to stumble around in the dark and potentially wake up whoever was in the room with him. He had brought the torch with him in case he might need it and he was glad he had, and he made a mental note to always take a torch with him whenever he went out on a job. He paused when the thought registered in his mind, and he realised he had slipped into burglar slang -

He came out of his thoughts harshly when his eyes caught sight of the figure lying sprawled over the bed, it was the figure of a woman with long, tousled dark hair, wearing a dark party dress that was quite crumpled.

Peter swallowed quietly and he slowly walked around the bed so he could see her face. The moment the torchlight shone on the woman's face, he recognised it instantly as the same face he had seen downstairs, on the ID and the driver's license. It was Mrs Capshaw and she was completely asleep, drunk he corrected himself when he saw the number of beer cans and bottles of liquor surrounding the bed. The woman was dead drunk. Peter crept closer to the bed, scanning the floor around him, mentally counting up to eleven cans and ten bottles and noting where they were on the ground so he could get close to the bed. He needed to know if this woman was completely pissed or not. After getting close to the woman enough to lean over her, Peter could smell the woman's breath as she let out a sudden snore and the acrid stench hit him in the nose. Peter pulled himself up, glancing around himself so he was able to list himself away without knocking anything around and causing a sound that might startle the woman out of her sleep.

Once he was assured the woman was asleep and drunk, Peter began searching the bedroom, keeping in his mind the quick online searches he had committed for the last couple of days about the burglary. Peter had learnt burglars didn't like to hang around long enough in a house, well not unless they wanted to get found out and arrested by the police. When they broke in, they would head for the bedroom since it was the logical place to store valuables like jewellery.

Slowly Peter approached the woman's vanity table, deeming it the most logical place to begin looking for the woman's collection of jewellery since it would give the woman easy access to them as she put on her makeup. As he went through the drawers, Peter was in no doubt he would find what he was looking for. He had learnt enough of this woman since his decision to commit a burglary to know she was rich, and yet she was incredibly complacent for reasons he couldn't work out. Peter had already known the woman had gone for a cheaper locksmith because they could do the work at a lower rate than Mr Hall's firm though what it was he didn't know.

Peter was not always clear when it came to other people. Everyone around him treated him strange, anyway. In their eyes, he was seen as a geek, and a weirdo simply because he liked to read and think about things instead of being like Flash or one of the other kids at school. As a kid, Peter had always tried to fit in with the crowd, none of it had worked, but now he simply didn't care. He had come to accept the fact he was not good at sports at a young age; while he could probably take part now thanks to his leopard abilities, Peter had taken steps to stop himself from attracting too much attention, since he had spent so long being hopeless in sports as a child, doing a complete three-sixty would be too suspicious - the last thing he needed.

Most of the classes he was forced to take part in were usually so dull and boring Peter had problems staying awake in some of them. But he put in the effort because he wanted to make his family proud of him, though at first, he had done his best to be good at everything before it occurred to him he didn't need excellent grades in other subjects he found boring so long as he made an effort in those he truly enjoyed.

As a result, he also didn't care about what was making Mrs Capshaw make the stupid decision to have a change of locks with one company, only to dump them and go for a cheaper one when she had more than enough cash to pay for the lot.

As he looked through the drawers, it didn't take Peter long to find what he was looking for. He soon found tucked underneath a few supplies of makeup a number of boxes tucked away neatly inside the drawer. Peter opened one slowly and was immediately greeted with the glint of diamonds and the sparkle of gold and silver in the torchlight. Peter immediately shoved the box into his bag before he went through the rest of the drawer. Within minutes he had completely emptied out the drawer of the jewellery within it, and he soon checked the rest of the vanity table.

In the other drawers, Peter found smaller boxes containing an assortment of rings, necklaces, what looked like ankle bracelets, earrings, but the piece de resistance of the collection was a large box and when Peter opened it he found himself staring at an ornate tiara studded with diamonds inlaid with silver filigree.

Peter's eyes widened as he studied it for a moment, his mind racing as he tried to imagine how on earth he was going to be get rid of this one. This tiara was extremely distinctive after all, and there was a chance if the police were given pictures of it then it would give them a lead straight to his door. In the end he decided to take the chance, and he shoved it into his bag, but his mind refused to leave the matter alone and as he shoved it into his bag for the journey back home to Forrest Hills, he wondered if he could find a way to melt it down and recast the tiara as a number of diamond rings..

Once he was finished with the vanity, Peter went through the rest of the bedroom for anything precious. He quickly guessed he already had the majority of what the woman-owned he could easily sell or launder, but as he came across the designer clothes and the expensive looking shoes and bags (he wasn't an expert in this type of thing, but he guessed he could probably make a profit on a few things), he realised he lacked the time or ability to get everything in his bag.

Leaving the bedroom, Peter headed back into the bathroom when he realised there was something he could take that was small enough to fit into his bag. The drugs in the bathroom cabinet. He realised now he had made the mistake in not immediately shoving them into his bag when he had first checked the cabinet out, and he immediately went back there to shove the lot into the bag.

Once he was done he quietly went down the stairs, his ears pricked just in case before he left the house through the backdoor before he clambered over the back wall and went into the alley. Safe in the shadows of the alley, Peter went on his way, ripping his mask off of his face, though he pulled his jacket hood up to disguise his basic features in case someone was watching, taking deep breaths in order to calm his pounding heart down and to master his breathing. He had a bottle of water in his bag, so he ripped it out and took a swig before he shoved it back into his bag, and then he swallowed the water, sighing in relief and delight as the liquid cooled his throat all the way down to his stomach. He was terrified of what he had just done, the things he had just learnt while he had been on the job…. and yet his heart was pounding in his chest over what he'd just done.

When he reached the end of the alley, Peter looked around in case anyone was looking, but his leopard enhanced vision couldn't pick out anyone or anything suspicious waiting for him, and he went on his way, making a mental note to try to find a plan to use for the next time. It took Peter a while to realise what he had just thought about as he made his journey back to the subway station that would take him home, to Queens.

* * *

When he was on the train going back to Queens, Peter was thinking about the heist he'd just pulled off when he heard his mobile phone go off. For a moment he was surprised because the mobile took him completely off guard when it began to ring, but after a few seconds he remembered calling his uncle and aunt back home to let them know he was going to be in the Brooklyn area of the city for a little while longer, and he would call them back in an hour or so.

Peter cursed as he realised he had still been on high from the burglary he had completely forgotten about the call back home to let his uncle and aunt know he was returning. He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the mobile, and he wasn't surprised when he saw the word "Home" scrawled on the screen. Letting out a sigh, Peter answered it, "Hi. Sorry, I forgot to phone up."

He heard a sigh of relieved annoyance on the other end of the line. Uh oh, he thought to himself, praying to himself nothing bad was going to come from this one. "Peter, it's okay, the main thing is you're safe, though expect a bit of scolding from your aunt when you get back," Ben replied in his usual gentle voice, though Peter could hear from the tone of his voice he was not that worried though he had been concerned. "How did it go?" Uncle Ben asked, smoothly changing the subject around.

"Not bad. I posted my CV around to a few other places just after I spoke to you. I posted it in a few restaurants here and there in Brooklyn. I figured posting my CV to a busy part of the night would win me a few points for them, and now I'm on my way home."

He was telling the truth. He had been in the middle of posting his resume around the restaurants and a few other places, noting down their details while he did so then he'd have a record of who he had visited. But he had also used the opportunity to reach Mrs Capshaws and see if he could go through the committing the burglary. He had done both in just one night, and now he was placed.

"That's great, Peter," Ben replied happily before his voice became more businesslike. "Any hopefuls?"

"I don't know, not yet."

"When do you think you'll be home?"

Peter checked outside. "Another twenty minutes, I think," he replied.

"Great. I hope you're hungry?"

"I think so," Peter smiled over the line.

"I'll tell May," Ben replied, "great job looking for work, Peter. I'll see you when you get back. Give me a call if you need a lift."

"I might take you up on that," Peter replied.

"Okay. See you later, Peter."

"Bye, Uncle Ben," Peter said, and the line was cut. When he put his mobile away, Peter sat back. He wasn't looking forward to being scolded by his aunt for probably frightening her, he was just too glad he had managed to push his conscience aside. He looked at the bag sitting on the seat right next to him. Inside the bag was the sum total of all of his proceeds from the heist. Earning a living was one thing, but committing a crime was another.

Peter cursed his mind for bringing that up. What did it matter now? He had committed the burglary, and he had no intention of handing it all into a police station where his prints could probably be found.

And yet, Peter could not and would forget the indescribable rush he had felt when he had left Mrs Capshaw's house. His heart had been pumping with the adrenaline rush. The sense of power he'd gained, and he had to admit to himself that it was power, after committing the burglary, of walking away with a rucksack full of stolen jewellery, money, and drugs had been amazing.

With that in mind, Peter reached out for the rucksack and, after opening the top pocket, he drew out his notebook and a pen, and he started to write down the notes. He wrote down his impressions of the burglary, the things he had done wrong with the preparation stage; not bothering to properly check for ways to get to the house without blundering around the houses when he could have vaulted to the top and walked along the tops of the roofs. Peter knew there and then as he saw his own notes in black and white he was still thinking like an ordinary person. He was partly leopard like now, which meant he had the means of jumping up high or climbing on trees, and walking along rooftops, but his practice was limited.

He also made notes of what he had done wrong inside the house.

Checking the bathroom cabinet for prescription drugs and medicine was just the icing on the cake. The note taking was kind of therapeutic for Peter since he could, at last, write the whole experience down like a scientist making notes about an experiment so he could work things out in his mind. But the note taking became less and less like, so it was an analysis for him.

Peter felt as though someone had begun pumping liquid gasoline into his head. The idea of burgling Mrs Capshaw had been someone sparking the match, but the spark came from the burglary itself. Now his entire brain was on fire!

The burglary had opened up new possibilities for him, and later on, when he had returned home after meeting his uncle at the station and being driven home after he had eaten his dinner, Peter realised something important about what he'd just done.

He wanted to do it again.

* * *

Now Peter has become a thief, so much will change.

Until the next time...


	11. Chapter 11 The Impending Date

Disclaimer - I don't own Spider-Man, I'm just trying to do something different.

Please leave feedback and continued support for my story.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

The very next day after the burglary at Mrs Capshaw's place, Peter was both high on his success and yet worried at the same time.

On the one hand he was amazed by just how…dreamlike the whole experience happened to be from the perspective the next day; he still woke up the next day, tickled by his uncle gently who told him to get washed and to get dressed, like every other day of the week, and then forced to run for the school bus and having to bite down on his leopard-temper to stop himself from reducing the skull of the bus driver whom had had long since guessed was a sadistic, nasty bastard whose only pleasure in life was making geeks run because he had such a sad life.

How could he not think the burglary was a dream when the day was so mundane, so average and so boring, and yet realistic? It was only the reassurance he got when he looked into the rucksack and spotted the two ring boxes he had brought with him, perhaps foolishly considering where he was going for the day but he had wanted to have a bit of reassurance the whole thing had not been a dream.

And yet he was worried because when he got to work, he expected a report of the burglary from the media. Mr Hall liked to play the radio while the shop was open, but there was nothing. No report, no promises from the police. Nothing. It was as though the burglary had never taken place, though the rings at the bottom of his bag, and the other things stashed away in his bedroom at home, proved the burglary had taken place.

 _"Then again_ ," he thought to himself, " _the woman had been drunk when I got there. Is it possible she's still unconscious?"_

But he didn't know and frankly didn't care since it would give him plenty of time to work out how he was going to get rid of the stash. Peter had given some thought about it, and as he worked at the shop on his shift, in the office this time and not in the actual shop itself, (truthfully he was relieved he was working in the office of the shop today since the work was slow, and he was more or less allowed to be left alone, which would give him the time he would need to think), he had decided to get rid of a few of the necklaces and the gold rings before the media or the police got hold of the story.

The money he had stolen would be easy to get rid of, but the prescription drugs and some of the jewellery would need some creative thinking. Because he had no intention just yet to get rid of the tiara, not just yet.

There was still time for that, and besides now he had given it some thought, Peter was tempted to just keep the tiara as a kind of memento he could look back on so he could remember the burglary in the future. Granted, he would need to find a place where he could hide it, but it was a good idea, and he pictured himself, maybe twenty or thirty years from where he was now, looking at the tiara and remembering his first burglary.

But there were a few things he was still a bit unclear about. Looking left and right to see if he was truly alone, Peter went online and carried out a quick search online, typing into the search bar "how burglars sell their loot", and he came up with a whole page of options. He quickly clicked on one, mentally kicking himself for doing this at work, but he couldn't resist the chance to properly conduct some research.

He scanned the article, nodding to himself grimly. It was as he thought. He would need to find a pawnshop if he went to flog the jewellery since he didn't know how he could find himself a fence because he didn't know any criminals, but to do that he would need to present ID. That was not acceptable to Peter. The fewer traces he left for others to find, the better, and besides it wouldn't take much for the police to put two and two together.

Peter wished he knew someone who knew a fence, but he didn't. A fence would have been a perfect thing to have since it would have put him into contact with other criminals, so he wouldn't be forced to learn everything from scratch. He didn't want to depend on his abilities to help him get into places, and get anything out, but he knew he needed to practice. Still, the good news was there were other easier methods he could get rid of what he'd stolen.

He could put some of the jewellery on eBay, and since the stupid woman hadn't yet reported the burglary yet, he had some breathing room. With that in mind, Peter checked the local news, taking a look at the crime reports. Good, there was still nothing in the news about the burglary. He had some time, but how much time did he have?

When he heard something outside the office, someone walking up the stairs, Peter closed the internet search and he carried on with his work while his mind was trying to work out what his options were. He didn't care if he fell behind his workload, everything he was doing in this stupid office was easy for him.

As he thought about it, selling stuff on eBay was easy, so it wouldn't be a problem getting rid of the jewellery at a later date when the search died down. Yes, that was probably the best option for the problem, he reflected; whenever he stole jewellery, he would keep it hidden, and then he would sell it off slowly online. In the meantime, Peter had to contend with the drugs and the money he had stolen from Mrs Capshaws while he saved the jewellery for future investment, and he had no idea how he was going to get rid of that lot. The money wouldn't exactly be a major problem, it was easy enough to put into the Parker accounts, but the drugs would take a little bit of creative thinking on his part.

On his way home after his shift had ended, Peter turned his mind away from the success of the burglary, and instead concentrated on the next one. He had already made up his mind, there would be other burglaries. The only problem he had was choosing who he wanted to burgle while he tried to think of a way to get rid of some of the stuff he had already.

But on his way back home, Peter had to think about his next burglary. The Capshaw burglary had taught him he still had a long way to go when it came to planning his burglaries. He had made the mistake of thinking like an ordinary person instead of someone who had enhanced strength, speed and agility. As he walked back home while keeping note of where he was going, Peter's mind was full of plans and strategies for the next burglary.

 _"I check out the neighbourhood in the daytime,"_ he decided, deciding when it came to the burglary itself he would scout out the place over the rooftops where the chances of anyone spotting him were remote as he took a more in-depth look at the garden, or whatever, and then he would break in.

Peter had read that most burglars actually did it at night, but truthfully it didn't matter to him all that much even though once he had studied the information it made sense.

During the daylight hours, the houses would probably empty since the residents were either out with friends, at work, or they were attending school, which would be the ticket to a burglar.

While he was torn between deciding which times to actually pull one off, Peter decided he would simply try out the daytime burglary and compare it with what he'd just done, since the Capshaw burglary had taken place during the night.

But as he neared his house, Peter realised he shouldn't commit any more burglaries for the time being, though he knew he would probably regret it since he now had the bug, and wanted to get another rush of success as he stole money from someone else. _"That was a thought,"_ he considered, _"should I just take money, or focus on other things as well?"_

Still absorbed in his never-ending wrangling, Peter reached into his jacket pocket and slid the key into the lock and turned it. When he stepped inside, kicking his shoes off in the hallway, he smelt a familiar scent that mingled with the familiar scents of his uncle and aunt, and his stomach sank when he realised who it was.

Pretending to be nonchalant about the other presence in the house, Peter called out, "Uncle Ben! Aunt May! I'm home."

"We're in here, Pete," Ben Parker's called back from the living room.

Peter opened the door, pretending to be surprised to see Anna Watson seated at the table with the air of someone who believed she had the right to be wherever she wanted. "Hello, Mrs Watson," he greeted politely, though his tone fooled no-one in the room, and judging from the glare he was getting from Anna, it was clear the woman was not fooled.

"Hello Peter," she said in her usual dismissive tone that was mixed with dislike.

Peter raised an eyebrow when he detected the familiar disdain, but he had long since become immune to it. Truth be told he had never understood what he had done to make the woman look down her nose at him, but he had tried once to gain her trust and respect because he had fancied her niece. Now he knew where he stood with Mary Jane and ever since the incident at the Oscorp laboratory where the leopard DNA had been spliced a'la teleportation into his own genes he had found he had other things on his mind that went beyond this woman's petty attitude.

Greeting over, he turned to his relatives. "I can go upstairs if you want?" he said, hoping he could get away from this harpy and go online for a spell.

Aunt May smiled at him, but anyone could tell she was tense. Peter knew what the answer was going to be before his aunt who was the closest thing he'd had to a mother since his own had died in bizarre circumstances so long ago he could barely even recall what she looked like, never mind what her voice sounded like, even spoke.

"Actually Peter, Anna has something she wants to discuss with you," she said.

Well, he almost knew what Aunt May was going to say.

Although he genuinely didn't want to be there, Peter sat down knowing he wasn't going to win this. So he sat down, mentally wondering how long this was going to take and he looked at Uncle Ben with a questioning look on his face. His uncle looked pained, so it wasn't going to be good news. Peter looked expectantly at Anna, wondering what this woman had in mind this time.

Fortunately, the woman didn't care about small talk. "May and I have been chatting," she began, seeing Peter raise an eyebrow, but fortunately not hearing his mental sigh of irritation which went hand in hand with his equally mental eye-roll because when these two old ladies got together, Anna was the one who gossiped, not May, "and we have decided in your best interests that you go on a date with my niece Mary Jane."

What?! Peter looked at his aunt in disbelief, and more than a little resentment with a touch of anger mixed in. He suddenly wondered if he had dropped into a parallel universe, surely his aunt remembered how he had told both her and Uncle Ben about what Mary Jane had said to him on the school trip?

Uncle Ben sighed, and Peter glanced at him. His uncle's usual sympathetic look was mixed with a different message. Peter knew his uncle well enough to see what his uncle was trying to say with his gaze. "Don't ask me how Anna got May to go through with this one."

May looked guilty she had helped drive her nephew into this corner. She was just about to open her mouth, say something to reassure him she was only trying to help, but Anna got there first, somehow getting it into her mind he was accepting of the suggestion.

"That's wonderful!" she said with a wide smile that looked like it had come straight off of a mannequin. "I'll tell Mary Jane you're happy to take her out later tonight!"

"Tonight?!" Peter was embarrassed by the high pitched yelp that came out of his mouth, but he couldn't help himself. He was angry that his aunt had virtually conspired with someone whom he did not and had never truly liked to set him up on a date with someone he now considered so vapid and one-dimensional after spending a couple of weeks studying her with the same detachment as a laboratory scientist studying a specimen under a microscope once he'd removed the rose-tinted glasses covering his eyes, but he was angrier he didn't even have time to properly make his aunt see this was a bad idea.

Anna's smile dropped. "Yes, is there something wrong?" she asked, sounding like she didn't care if he happened to have plans for tonight.

"Yeah, its a bit too soon, isn't it?" Peter snapped, deciding not to bother with the pretence of trying to be nice to this woman. He even ignored his aunt when she scolded him "Peter!" so he could focus on this arrogant interloper. "I mean, I've just come home. I'm hungry. I'm tired. I just want to have a quiet night-."

"Nonsense! Teenagers are always on the go," Anna interrupted with a dismissive wave of her hand, speaking the word teenagers with a tone that was probably meant to be knowledgeable and yet showed she didn't know one way or another. "Besides, Mary Jane has been looking forward to this date for a while."

"But I don't like Mary Jane," Peter pointed out, deciding he was through playing this game, "I mean, I used to like her, but she said something very nasty-,"

He said it with such logical fact even Aunt May felt compelled to come to his rescue. "He's right, Anna," she pointed out, suddenly looking truly regretful as if she had honestly not given much thought to how hurt Peter had been when he'd heard Mary Jane, a girl he had fancied for a long time, say about him. "She did say something nasty when that horrible Thompson boy started on-,"

Uncle Ben and Peter had both been watching Anna Watson closely as May began speaking, so they were not surprised when they saw the woman's expression becoming more angrier as the Parkers began to unravel her plan though Peter honestly had no idea why Anna seemed dead set on him and Mary Jane dating all of a sudden.

"May, you have to understand," Anna began, speaking in a soft tone so completely different to her usual voice (Peter had to give the woman credit; she knew how to string Aunt May along, knowing that May responded best to soft tones, and not acidic ones), "Mary Jane was trying to stop her former boyfriend from hurting Peter, so she had to say something off-putting to make Flash back off away from him. Mary Jane has always been interested in Peter, and she hated hurting him to that extent."

Uncle Ben stepped in at that point. "If that was true then why didn't she come to our home later that very night, explained it to Peter? We're next door neighbours. Why didn't she come? Flash would never have known."

But Peter had been wondering before his uncle had even spoken if what Anna had said was true, surprised in spite of himself just how easily this woman had been able to manipulate him. Was it true? Did she really feel something for him-? The dam he had erected to keep out the old thoughts and desires for the gorgeous redhead was about to crack-

But Uncle Ben's questions and extremely accurate statement stopped the wall from fracturing into a million chunks of debris and brought him back to the here and now, and he suddenly remembered the last few weeks. He remembered how he had observed the girl closely without the rose-tinted glasses which stopped him from properly seeing the girl for real, and he had truly not liked what he had seen. Not one little bit.

Uncle Ben had a point. Mary Jane was one of the most popular girls at the school, her natural beauty had given her the keys to the In-Crowd at the school, and she was extremely confident though behind closed doors where her father, Greg, was a loud-mouthed bastard you could hear up and down the street it was a different story, but she could have made the effort to come and knock on the door once in a while, especially after Peter had come home with half of his genes replaced with those of a large cat. If she was truly sorry, why hadn't she done it? Uncle Ben had a good point about Flash - he lived a few streets away, but that couldn't have stopped her from coming to her neighbours' door.

But it wasn't just the mess at Oscorp that had really upset him. Peter had noticed how often Mary Jane had smirked whenever Flash made one of his boring, and extremely unfunny jokes about him (Peter) and a few others. That was not the sign of a nice person.

Looking more than aware she was being cornered and not liking it at all, Anna Watson had to take a deep breath to control her temper; the fact she did it so visibly was worrying.

"Mary Jane didn't know what to say," she retaliated, looking at Ben with narrowed, slit-like eyes that made Peter certain if the woman had the means, she would be murdering his uncle right there and then, "and she was also embarrassed."

 _"Give this woman a fucking Oscar!"_ Peter thought to himself disdainfully, though he had to admire her ability to act and improvise at the same time.

She was good, he'd give her that.

And then something popped into his mind. It was cruel, and not really like him, and he had to wonder if the leopard half of him was leaking out into his mild-mannered, weak, human facade.

"Alright," he whispered, "I'll do it."

Ben looked at him in surprise. "Peter, are you sure-?"

Peter silenced him with a look and nodded his mouth set. "I'll be alright," he replied, already working out plans and counterplots in case this little scheme went tits up. Besides, now he thought about it he could perhaps cause problems for Anna Watson as well. It was nasty for him to do, but Peter truly did not care, and besides, he could do with some halfway decent answers to some of his more in-depth questions.

* * *

Until the Next Time... I've decided to write the date itself as a separate chapter to give me time to think and to work on my other stories.


	12. Chapter 12 Disaster

I don't own the Spider-Man characters. Marvel does. Please leave me feedback for the story.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

As he stood waiting outside the Watsons' house for Mary Jane to arrive, Peter was trying to work out how he was going to do this while he tried to work out what Anna Watson hoped to achieve with this plan, because he didn't understand what the woman was trying to do - he didn't believe for one moment the woman was doing it out of the goodness of her heart. Anna Watson did nothing for others as far as he could tell, and as far as Peter was aware the woman had not even bothered to inquire about his Uncle Ben when he'd been shot, and she hadn't seemed to care about how her 'friend' was doing, but truthfully Peter had no idea if the woman had preferred it didn't matter, or if he truly didn't know.

He was tempted to check the time to see how long he'd been forced to wait for the girl, but in the end, he decided against it as he waited outside- he had arrived on time after all, but Mary Jane seemed to be taking her own sweet time. He could also hear the tell-tale signs of a nightly Watson family argument; Peter tuned it out of his mind, he'd heard it all before anyway, so it wasn't likely to be anything that interested him.

As he waited Peter couldn't help but think about how his life had changed - a year or so ago, he would have died of happiness of having this chance to date Mary Jane and hopefully make something out of it, but after seeing the horrible way her attitude went at Oscorp and then later at school, Peter had decided it was best not to have anything to do with her, but after tonight he'd have a clear idea of what the Watsons - Anna and Mary Jane - wanted.

 _It's funny_ , he thought to himself, _I can't help but remember my infographics about this whole thing, but I never took into account the whole thing being manipulated._

Thinking about the infographics he'd made years ago as he'd tried to apply scientific reasoning to the idea of dating Mary Jane made him want to laugh at himself. Peter's background in science and computers had made him draw up a few infographics about what could happen during a date if Mary Jane even agreed to go on one - back then, Peter had always thought the girl was kind to him; she had helped pick up his books, but now he thought about it, their eyes had never met, but he had been too shy to pay any attention to her, and he now had to ask himself if the girl had only picked up his books and things not because she was kind but because she thought Flash's games were so childish only a five-year-old would come up with it.

Peter had never told anyone anything about the infographics; it would make him an even greater social pariah than he was already, and besides, in most of the infographics none of the scenarios he'd dreamt up to make them work out had worked, so what was the point?

Peter was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the door of the Watson house open, and he took a breath as he watched Mary Jane walk out of the house, the dim sounds of her father's voice echoing after her. The girl was dressed in a dazzling combination of a powder-blue jacket, white t-shirt that showed off her curves, and jeans. Combined with her natural beauty, she was stunning, but Peter tried hard not to be moved.

"You didn't have to wait," the girl said before he could even greet her politely; just because he didn't like her attitude didn't mean he could not be polite.

Peter decided not to comment on it, it wasn't relevant anyway so he decided to ignore what the girl had just said. "Where do you want to go?" he asked, trying to sound enthusiastic about spending time with her.

"There's a party on, but don't you have to get back soon? I mean, didn't your aunt and uncle tell you to come home at a certain time?" Mary Jane asked.

Peter eyed her face, struggling to hold his anger at her questions about Aunt May and Uncle Ben. They might worry about him, but Uncle Ben understood only too well he was a teenager, and there were special allowances for them. He knew that.

"I can go home anytime I want," Peter said to the girl, wondering if this was a bad idea; he hadn't been crazy about it in the first place, this date, but hearing the implication she expected him just to go home at a certain time annoyed him. It made it sound like the Watson woman - in this case, Anna and Mary Jane since he wasn't sure if the girls' mother actually cared - thought he was nothing more than a small kid.

But some of his anger must have leaked out into his voice because Mary Jane pulled back slightly in surprise, but she recovered quickly. "Okay," she said, giving him a look though Peter wasn't sure what was going on in her mind, "shall we go?"

"Yeah," Peter replied, and they went on their way to the bus stop to catch a bus to where this mysterious party was taking place. As he sat next to Mary Jane, the girl's scent made him wrinkle his nose slightly. The girl was wearing a cheap perfume that made her smell like a flat fizzy drink over her natural scent, though Peter could definitely smell it.

He had never liked the smell of the cheap perfumes, and he couldn't help but wonder why Mary Jane, who was well known for wearing more richer, vibrant fragrances had decided to go for something cheaper in this case, and he wondered if she had done it for his benefit, that he was beneath her interest…

After a moment Peter shrugged his shoulders mentally and deemed it unimportant. It wasn't like he himself was taking this date seriously anyway, why should he expect Mary Jane to either. In fact, now he was thought about it, he glanced at her. The moment he saw the way she'd used makeup he knew the Watson girl wasn't taking it seriously either. The makeup, although done perfectly, was too much. It was only a step below what Peter could deem trashy, but it was close.

"Are you just going to sit there, or aren't you going to speak to your date?" Mary Jane's question made Peter snap back to the present.

"Tell me some more about where this party is," he said, quickly coming up with the reply after a quick run through of what he could say to the girl; the old him before that day at Oscorp where his eyes had been forcefully opened after being put through that teleportation device, and then later turned to crime in order to make ends meet but also to see what he could do, would probably have spoken about school, or something along those lines. Not the new, improved, stronger him.

 _Besides_ , he reflected, _I want to savour every moment as graduation draws nearer. I don't want it ruined tonight._

For some reason, his request surprised the girl, who looked at him with surprise. "It's not far from where we are, in fact," she added as she looked out of the window as the bus travelled (Peter had also been keeping watch, recognising the streets like the ones he had regularly passed on the way as he'd gone jogging recently), "we're nearly there. I don't know if you'd like the party, Peter. You know, it would be where people have fun."

Peter swallowed his anger, wondering when this girl had become so tactless and not to mention dropping snide little insults here and there because he wasn't sure if she'd always had this little seed in her personality that made her sound so arrogant. He fell silent mostly because he couldn't think of anything smart to say, but most of all he didn't want the girl to come back at him with anything else to put him off.

"Anyway, I can't wait to party." Mary Jane went on, oblivious to the anger he was feeling, in fact, she wasn't looking at him full stop, "it's going to be great."

"Yeah," he said quietly, hoping the girl didn't notice that he felt like he was in his own version of hell. Peter had never been good in parties mostly because most of the other kids had never really wanted him around simply because he was different from them. The fact he was shy didn't enter into the equation. Peter had often wondered in the past why they bullied him, but then a kid asked him bluntly if he thought he was so high and mighty because of his grades, and he had worked out that everyone thought he was some kind of an arrogant snob because he had great grades at school.

"Hey," Mary Jane's voice broke through his thoughts, "we're here."

Peter followed her off of the bus, mentally hoping this night didn't end up being a complete disaster like he hoped. He had no doubt in his mind Mary Jane was doing this for some reason that was beneficial only to herself, his own feelings didn't matter to her, but he needed to figure out a way of asking her about it. He didn't think it was a wise move, as he and Mary Jane walked to the house that was booming with music and bright lights like there was a miniature club inside, with teenagers their age drinking and giggling like kids, but Peter barely spared them a glance as he turned on his phone and selected the voice recorder function before slipping the phone back into his pocket and keeping one thumb above the touch-screen button which would turn the app instantly. He was going to ask Mary Jane at some point what this date was really all about, and why her aunt was pushing it down his aunt's throat.

* * *

The noise and the smells coming from the party made him flinch slightly; he loved his leopard enhanced senses, he really did, but he didn't like it when something like this assaulted them. He let Mary Jane lead them in, ignoring the stares he was getting from the kids who attended Midtown High, seeing Harry Osborn, Liz Allen, and Sally Avril, among them. Peter ignored them and followed his date, but as they entered the living room that was so crammed with bodies and shadows even his leopard enhanced vision had problems picking out the features of the walls, he saw someone out of the corner of his eye.

It was Flash Thompson. Peter hadn't seen Flash in some time given how he had his own life and his own problems to face, problems which did not feature Flash and his petty games while he dealt with real-life issues. Mary Jane suddenly turned around and gave him the dazzling smile that had made him fall in love with her a long time ago, and before he knew what she was doing he suddenly had her in his arms while she wrapped her own arms high above his head.

The stench of her cheap perfume wafted up into his nose, reminding him of how fake this all was. Mary Jane didn't lose her smile as she led them around the room, and he realised something very quickly while she pressed herself really close to him. Flash was not far away, and they were heading close to where he was standing. Peter wondered if he was being more cynical than he should be with this girl, but he didn't understand what she was planning on doing.

"Parker!" Peter turned on the app at the sound of Flash's voice, and he felt himself being shoved away from his "date" only to receive a punch to the face.

Peter winced in pain, fighting the instinct to retaliate, but the force of the blow didn't knock him to the ground as it had in the past. He was about to say something while the music was turned down and the partygoers seemed to become puppets on strings and just stopped their dancing to watch the entertainment, though the gloom of the room was still the same.

"Hello Flash," Peter began, but Mary Jane got there quickly.

"Flash, stop it!" Mary Jane said.

Flash swung round on her. "You little slut!" he shouted at the girl. "We're still dating. Hell, I took you out last night to a club, and you enjoyed it. So why are you dating this loser right here? It's always a game with you, isn't it, you little bitch!? We've been having problems, yeah, I get that. But we always bounced back. Then you started setting up little dates with other boys, bringing them to places I was gonna be, and now this? I've had enough!"

Through the darkness of the living room, Peter's vision was sharp enough to pick out Mary Jane's face. She didn't look stricken or even bothered by what Flash was saying, though what she was thinking he didn't know.

Peter decided he'd had enough of this little party and he turned around and walked away, leaving these two behind. As he left he could overhear Mary Jane and Flash having a fight; from the sounds of it going on behind him, it seemed Mary Jane and Flash were on the verge of breaking up if they weren't already about to do so, but the noise of the partygoers and the bad music booming into his ears and made it difficult for him to concentrate on anything drowned out the sounds of the fight.

He didn't care either way. He pushed through everyone in the way, even resorting to his leopard strength to do it, not caring if he caused injuries tonight or not. "Get out of my way," he snapped once or twice at the partygoers, "get out of my way, or I will snap you in half!" he threatened them, letting some of his leopard temper leak out, and his voice came out in an animalistic growl.

At the sight of some of the people here looking frightened, Peter closed his eyes and just shoved everyone out of his way instead.

* * *

Peter heard Mary Jane's voice behind him, calling for him to stop, but he ignored her. It was hard because the house was so full of teenagers, some of them so drunk the fact they were still even walking was a miracle in itself, so it gave Mary Jane the time she needed to follow. He was going home and that was it. When he finally got out of the cramped house into the open, Peter took a few moments to inhale and savour the fresh (albeit polluted air) outside.

"You're not going to walk away from me, Peter Parker," Mary Jane's strident voice shouted behind him, making him wince at the volume, and he turned to find the redhead right there, "not when I am trying to talk to you."

"Yeah, you can start by why your bitch of an aunt said you were interested in me when it is clear you're not," Peter interrupted, glaring at her without even bothering to hide what he felt for her anymore, but he was delighted he finally had the opportunity to get some answers.

Mary Jane's expression shifted from surprised he was even speaking back to her like that, before her expression became angry that he was insulting her aunt but he wasn't going to apologise to her, though he would have to speak to his own aunt about what he'd said just now though he didn't care about the consequences. "That's not true!" she protested.

"Then why did you just play with Flash's feelings? And not for the first time, either, right?" he snapped in her face. "God knows I don't like Flash, but even I wouldn't want to play with his feelings like that. What were you trying to do? How many times have you done this?"

Peter said it in such a way Mary Jane looked down and felt compelled to answer - when he got home and edited out some of the recording, particularly the part where he'd threatened the other teens in the party, he would wonder if some of his leopard temper had emerged once more - before she answered, "I've only done it a few times Peter. I wanted to know if Flash was really the one for me. I mean, he never liked what I enjoyed doing, and I hated what he enjoyed doing, but there was chemistry between him and I. I just wanted to know if he took me seriously," she said, lowering Peter's already low opinion of her.

"So you decided to bring other guys into the fold, take them to places where Flash was, and then watch as he beat them up," Peter said, trying to conceal his apprehension of this girl who played with the feelings of those around her without a care in the world, "what then, I don't think things between you were great after each one?"

"No, they weren't. After you managed to beat him up," Mary Jane paused as she studied him with disbelief as though amazed he'd even managed that little feat, "he felt humiliated, and he caused problems between us. I wanted him to focus on me when he began working out more, training hard so then he could beat you up again, and get his self-respect back. But I wanted him focusing on me!"

"Why me? There are other kids at the school you could have used," Peter asked brutally, tired of all the games this girl had put him through; he had known for a long time there were teenagers who were like this - girls and boys who enjoyed playing games with their partners to see just how far their relationships went, but he had never imagined being a victim of one himself.

"I have liked you for years, Peter," Mary Jane began, looking at him beseechingly as though looking for sympathy, "but I never thought you'd ask me out. Things between me and Flash were winding down, and I needed a new boyfriend, and that's when I thought about you."

Peter didn't really believe her. She had begun earnestly enough, so he might be willing to give her the benefit of the doubt there, but he felt she was a bit too melodramatic in the last bit, and he didn't like the way she seemed to be looking at him for a boyfriend as if she couldn't find anybody else.

"So I was the last resort?" he asked, voicing his current thoughts.

"Peter, I didn't know Flash was going to be there -," Mary Jane tried to say but he interrupted her.

"Do you really expect me to believe that?!" Peter shouted, losing his temper, and his voice grew louder and louder with each word, his anger surprising and shocking Mary Jane who actually took a step back from him. "He was on the other side of the room we were in, for fuck's sake! Don't tell me you didn't notice him, I did! Tell me the truth, what do you really think of me?"

He had decided this game had gone on long enough. He was getting completely different messages from the girl, and he was sick of it.

"You said just now you had liked me for years, Mary Jane, and yet for the last few weeks I've wised up to you," Peter said, lowering his voice so he could speak to the girl like an adult human being, "I always thought you were a nice person, and then you do this just to make Flash jealous. Why? So he'd notice you more? And what about the way you smirk whenever your stupid boyfriend pulls wedgies on little kids and laughs because he's the jock doing it all? Why?"

"Alright, okay, I'll tell you," Mary Jane shouted, suddenly tired with all of the questions. "I do like you. You'd have made a better boyfriend than Flash because I knew you were interested in me," she suddenly smirked in a smug, shallow way that spoke volumes about what she was thinking, "but you were still that geeky loser who was too afraid to say boo to a goose. I wanted you to be tougher, and you became tougher when you beat Flash up. If it weren't for the fact I thought you were cute, I would never have dated you ever."

Peter's posture was stiff with anger. And hurt. He was surprised to realise that a part of him, a very small part, in fact, had been holding onto the small hope this date could mean something for him, but now he was seeing for himself just how into herself this girl was on top of already coming to terms with the fact she was incredibly vain and shallow. He couldn't get the way she had been able to see through his shy admiration of her in the past and saw that he fancied her, and how she enjoyed the idea of having him wrapped around her little finger. The fact she was no better from those other girls at the school who followed those others who called him 'Puny Parker' like a flock of sheep following the biggest, baddest, most stupidest sheep of all annoyed him, but it didn't upset her as much as she might have expected.

"Why did you tell Flash to leave me along during that trip to Oscorp?" Peter couldn't believe the words that left his mouth, but he quickly realised he wanted some kind of clarification, and he remembered that he wanted to find out what Anna Watson's role in this was.

It took a moment for Mary Jane to remember that day that seemed like decades ago, but she came back with her answer really quickly. "I wanted Flash to realise he had nothing to fear from a geek, but Peter, I really do like you."

Peter wondered if there were two separate personalities like Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde lurking behind Mary Jane's mind, he couldn't understand why she would think he was interested in her after she had practically admitted she thought he was a wimp, a geek, Puny Parker.

Mary Jane could see the contempt in his eyes and she immediately backtracked. "Peter, I meant it," she said desperately, "I do love-."

"No," he held up his hand, "I don't believe you."

And he didn't. He was starting to see Mary Jane didn't love anyone but herself. Everyone else were just tools for her to use. She didn't care about anyone who crossed her path. She didn't care about Flash, all that garbage about seeing if he was devoted to her... No-one normal would do such a thing. He didn't care what she thought about him; yeah, she might claim she thought he was cute, but to manipulate him... That was not love.

With that, he turned and walked away. He ignored her calls from behind him, and with the streets mostly clear, Peter was able to double his speed to put distance between them. As far as he was concerned, Mary Jane and Flash could have each other. He didn't care.

As he turned down a street, he turned off the app and walked home without getting a bus. He knew his way around the neighbourhood and besides, he didn't want to return home right away. He needed the time to think straight again.

Peter just didn't understand the logic Mary Jane had just used. On the one hand she said she did fancy him, something which would have made him overjoyed in the past before that fateful trip to Oscorp, and on the other hand she had admitted she thought nothing about using him for her own, shallow ends while saying she thought his only redeeming feature was he was 'cute,' but he was still a geek in her eyes….

But as he walked home, Peter went through everything he had just heard. He wasn't sure if Mary Jane fancied him only because she knew he fancied her at some point, so he would be more devoted to her than Flash was in the past, and she thought him cute though he wasn't sure how far that went and it went into territory he didn't want to get into, and then there was the fact she agreed with Flash and everybody else at that fucked up school he was nothing more than a loser. That made her less attractive in his mind.

He wondered if she had just wanted a boyfriend who'd do everything she wanted as if thinking he didn't have a mind of his own while she thought she could do whatever she wanted all the time, without any reprisals from him when she went too far…In the end, Peter shrugged and decided to cut his losses. He reached into his pocket and brought out the mobile and stared at it thoughtfully. He was going to make sure his aunt and uncle listened to what Mary Jane had said if it was the last thing he did. And he was going to replay it every single time Aunt May got the idea in her mind she needed to help set him up on a date. There was no chance she was going to do this again.

* * *

Sorry if the teenage drama was incomprehensible, but in my mind Mary Jane liked Peter because she knows he is cute and knows he fancies her, and she knows she would do anything if she dated him, but she is too shallow to see Peter has a mind of his own and won't stand for it.


	13. Chapter 13 New Target for the Burglar

I don't own Spider-Man, but I do own this story and I hope you enjoy this latest instalment.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

By the time Peter had returned to his house, he had already rewound the audio file on his phone to a part he wanted. He had no doubt in his mind that Uncle Ben, or perhaps both Ben and May were still up, wanting to hear how it had gone for him tonight. Personally Peter hoped it was both of them, he wanted them both to hear what Mary Jane had said to him when he'd gotten out of that house; he would need to do it anyway, but he hoped he had enough time to give them the whole thing without them hearing how he had threatened those other teens, letting his leopard self come out, though at this point he wondered if it would make any difference.

If there were two of them up waiting for him, it would certainly make life much easier for him. Either way, it didn't really matter, but he needed to make his aunt aware of what this little plan had done. He knew it hadn't been intentional for him to be humiliated by Mary Jane, but it had happened, and he wanted to make it abundantly clear to his aunt he didn't want anyone, not even her, poking their nose into his relationships, no matter how well-meaning the idea was.

But as he thought about it, he couldn't help but once more ask himself what on earth Anna Watson gained from manipulating him and his Aunt May. Anna Watson portrayed herself as a lovely person who was a friend to everyone, and she was, but only to the people, she liked. To Peter and to Uncle Ben, she was an arrogant woman who loved putting others down, all in the name of gossip.

She never did anything for others as long as she got something out of it; like that time when her car broke down and Uncle Ben and Aunt May were going into the city to do some Christmas shopping, she had talked her way into coming along. Peter remembered all too well the scowl on his uncle's face when they came back, and Aunt May had not looked too happy her plans had been warped a little bit by her so-called friend's intrusion.

Peter decided to not worry about Anna Watson anymore, especially since he couldn't work out what it was she was trying to achieve this time, mentally counting down the days where he could get to college and get some peace from the woman who seemed to think his desire for higher education was her business to talk about, and he returned to focusing on his mobile. He had to admit using the mobile to record what went on had been a brilliant one and would be sure to get Anna off of his back for a bit, especially since Mary Jane hadn't been completely subtle with her putdowns, and Anna couldn't blame him for that unless she was completely delusional.

But he was still had problems with the track.

That bit where he threatened those teenagers; he had been so focused on the Watsons he had forgotten the most important part. In the end, Peter decided to give a small sample of what the bitch had said. He had listened to the audio recording he'd taken until he'd gotten what he wanted while making note of the part in the recording where he had threatened those teens, but for the time being he selected the part of the recording where Mary Jane told him what she was trying to do.

He still couldn't work out what Mary Jane had been thinking, but he guessed he would forget about the bewildering thought processes and the rather unusual logic she used. How could she call him cute and yet deride him at the same time? He just could not work it out, and he doubted his aunt and uncle would be able to work it out either.

As he got to his house, Peter wasn't surprised when he saw a light in the living room window, and he unlocked the door and strode inside. He was halfway through the door when he took a deep sniff, but it wasn't necessary when Uncle Ben appeared. Peter studied the older man and not for the first time, he could see how haggard his uncle appeared after the robber had attacked him, but while he was quickly regaining his strength and confidence which Peter had always admired, Uncle Ben was still shaken by what had happened, and he was seeing a shrink as a result though no-one in the house really spoke about the sessions until they'd happened.

"Peter, how did it go?" Uncle Ben asked, looking at his nephew with a questioning look though he could see a hint of caution as if knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"It was a disaster," Peter replied shortly, kicking off his shoes and putting his coat up. "Look, can we grab a hot chocolate? I'd be more comfortable telling you somewhere else than the hall."

"Oh, right, sorry, Peter," Uncle Ben apologised, and he went back into the kitchen with Peter following behind. Peter sat down, placing his mobile phone in the centre of the table, and waited while his uncle made the hot chocolate using the microwave to save time and to avoid using one of the saucepans. When he was finished, Uncle Ben brought the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate over to the table and sat down, and it didn't take him long to notice his nephew's mobile phone in the centre of his table.

Noticing his uncle's scrutiny, Peter picked up the phone silently and he switched it on and played the part of the selected audio file stored in its memory. Uncle Ben drank his hot chocolate and listened carefully to the argument between Peter and Mary Jane, and his expression began to darken with anger at the things she was saying, but Peter could see the confusion in his eyes as well. He knew what his uncle was confused about but there was nothing he could do there.

When the phone reached the ending of the recording, Peter silently picked it up again and he replayed it back to the very beginning. Peter witnessed the expression on Uncle Ben's face became even uglier as he listened to Flash, but the older man shook his head at the very quick confrontation between Flash and Mary Jane.

As soon as the confrontation was over Peter very quickly, though he wasn't stupid enough to dive for the phone and attract suspicion and interest from his uncle, turned off his phone and took a deep sip from his mug, realising as soon as he tasted it his uncle had put something alcoholic into it, but he didn't mind. His uncle always kept a couple of bottles in the house, beers, rums, and some whiskey. He wasn't an alcoholic, but like most people, he liked the occasional drink, but Peter suspected his uncle had put the alcohol into the hot chocolate mix to help settle the nerves. He did it every single time.

Uncle Ben rubbed his face. It never failed to amaze him just how little changed teenagers could be these days. When he'd been a teenager himself, he had dated dozens of girls, but he had never played games with them the same way Mary Jane had with Flash, Peter, and God alone knew how many other boys the girl had manipulated in this manner. There was no doubt in the old man's mind Mary Jane had not played this type of game with others, and his pity for Flash, even if he didn't like the teenage jock for what he had done to Peter in the past, and his nephew increased.

"I don't get it," he said bluntly, quickly noticing his nephew's sudden confusion. "Why would she say she liked you and then put you down?"

Peter shrugged irritably, as though he regarded the whole thing with confusion himself, but Ben knew his nephew well enough to understand Peter had tried to comprehend Mary Jane's actions. "I don't either," he replied, "but I think she was telling the truth; she does like me, but I don't think she likes me the way I liked her. You know how I fancied her for years, but I realise now it was because of her beauty and her effortless confidence. I think she liked me for what she could get; you heard her say she thought I was cute, that I was attentive. I think that's all she wanted from me. Other than that she just saw me like everyone else, a geek."

Ben's eyes flashed. He knew that there was a slight gulf between him and Peter in that they had different interests and ideas on life, but unlike other people, Ben knew and loved his nephew, and the gulf, although it existed, was barely visible between the pair of them. He sighed and drank some of his hot chocolate, relishing in the remaining warmth of the drink though he could tell it was cooling down. "Sounds like she was expecting you to do all her homework for her and you get nothing but kisses as a reward," he commented.

Peter's eyes widened in surprise as he conjured an image of a naive version of himself doing all of Mary Jane's work while the redhead partied continuously, not giving a thought about what she was doing while he slaved away, only to receive a kiss, and then having to watch the bitch saunter away. He hadn't thought of it like that. He had been too annoyed by what Mary Jane had done even if he'd expected the girl and her good for nothing bitch of an aunt had set the date up to even consider the girl had other motives other than using him to break up with Flash. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to others making him do their work because they were either too lazy or stupid to do it themselves - Harry Osborn did it frequently. He still did Harry's work though he had made it very clear to the other boy things were going to change because he wasn't going to hold Harry's hand at college. It helped they had different courses, but Peter had his own future to think about and he had no desire to worry about Harry's. If the younger Osborn couldn't be bothered to care about what awaited him out in the real world, that was his problem.

"You're probably right," Peter conceded, making the decision not to tell his uncle what he'd just pictured in his mind since it was likely Uncle Ben had already pictured it.

Uncle Ben closed his eyes as another thought crossed his mind. "Anna is going to come back," he said wearily, "there's no way she won't bring this up."

 _Fuck!_ Peter thought to himself. _I'd forgotten about her._ "What I can't grasp is how she thought it was going to work," Peter said aloud, something occurring to him even as the thought of Anna came into his head. "I think she and Mary Jane came up with this little scheme. I think you're right about Mary Jane wanting me to do her niece's work, though what I'd like to know is what she gets out of it."

Ben shrugged. He'd stopped trying to work out what went through Anna Watson's brain a long time ago. "I don't know, Pete," he said tiredly, yawning from both fatigue and where the subject was, but he pushed it aside and focused on his nephew again kindly, though Peter was able to see the clear exhaustion in Ben's eyes. "May will have to listen to this and get the full story before Anna tries to spin something that makes you out to be the bad guy; May won't believe it, but she will have concerns."

Peter grimaced as he thought about his aunt. "You do realise I am not going to let her take such interest into my personal life, right?" he asked slowly and carefully.

Ben nodded, knowing what Peter was saying. "Peter, as far as I am concerned, you're old enough to date whomever you like," he said, "and besides I had my concerns about this date in the first place. May and I had an argument about her letting Anna Watson dictate terms like that."

Peter flinched, hating that he had caused problems between his aunt and uncle, but Ben waved him off. "It wasn't as dramatic or as loud as the Watson's are prone to do," he said when he saw the emotions cross over Peter's face. "It was more of a disagreement than anything else."

Peter relaxed but only just, though he didn't like the comparison with the Watsons. He had often himself why Mrs Watson even put up with her oaf of a husband, but he found he didn't give a damn anymore. One of the things he loved about his uncle and aunt was when they had a fight, a major one, it was usually kept quiet since they had learnt arguments were not won with fights but with straightforward adult talking, though occasionally they did shout at each other when they felt it necessary.

Ben nodded at the mug in Peter's hands. "C'mon, we'd better drink up," he stated, "you've got school tomorrow."

Peter sighed, "Don't remind me. Oh, I can't wait to graduate," he actually closed his eyes to savour the thought, "anything to actually be around people who want to learn."

Ben chuckled, though he still couldn't help but feel uneasy a little bit with how few good memories his nephew had with the school. He guessed it made sense, given how badly Peter had been treated.

"Come on," he said, "we'd better get to bed. We want May to listen to what you've recorded."

"I'll need my mobile tomorrow, so I will need to transfer the recording to the laptop," Peter pointed out when he realised.

Ben nodded. "That's okay, but make sure your aunt hears it before you do."

"In that case could you wake me up a little bit earlier than you normally do, and make sure I get out of bed quickly?" Peter asked hesitantly, knowing he was asking a great deal from his beloved uncle who was still recovering from the shooting.

Fortunately Ben seemed okay with it, and he caught on quickly enough to guess what Peter was suggesting. "And make sure May hears the recording before you go to school? Sure, I'll do that. I'll set my alarm."

Peter nodded back and they drained their mugs. But Peter didn't go straight to bed, the first thing he did was copy the audio file on his phone to a couple of CDs and he placed them on his desk by his computer. When the computer copied and burned the CDs, Peter went to the bathroom and got ready for bed. He was incredibly tired, but he was keeping himself awake for this one last task of the night. As he did so he made a minute edit to remove the part where he'd threatened those teens. It was a small detail, but Peter didn't want anybody else to know about what he'd said. The less cause he gave someone to be suspicious about him, the better, and the more he thought about things the more convinced he became that he did this. Aunt May and Uncle Ben would tell Anna about the audio recording he'd taken, and he wanted his aunt to hear his side of the story long before Anna came around with her lies.

When he was finished, the CDs recorded - one for tomorrow and the other to remind him never to be too careful when it came to girls - he got into bed after turning his computer off and went to sleep.

Peter barely felt he had gotten any sleep when Uncle Ben woke him up the next morning, but he adapted quickly even if he felt lightheaded and wanted nothing more than to collapse back onto the mattress and sleep all day. He could see from his uncles' expression that he was not the only one. By the time Peter and Ben had gone downstairs, they found May in the kitchen.

The old woman looked at Peter with her usual smile which was full of life and love for him, but Peter could see a dimness to her tired visage. "Ben told me what happened," she said simply, too tired to play around the bush.

Peter glanced at his uncle, who shrugged. "She was awake by the time I got upstairs, and she wanted to hear the whole story," he explained.

Peter nodded, though he wished his aunt had been downstairs to hear the audio file rather than do it here, it made little difference. He laid the laptop he was carrying down on the table, and within moments they were listening to the recording though both Peter and Uncle Ben watched how May took it; Peter's confrontation with Flash, who lashed out at Mary Jane, his accusations towards her, and lastingly Peter's confrontation with Mary Jane herself.

May…. she looked horrified by what she was hearing. Peter watched her closely, seeing the pain in her face that she was partially to blame for this mess, though he would never blame her although he wasn't going to regret telling her politely never to poke her nose into his personal relationships even if she had better intentions than Anna Watson did.

"She wanted to use you," she whispered in horror as she echoed her husband's theory, clearly wishing it wasn't true.

Peter nodded. "I was confused by her last night, but it seems to be the only logical explanation," he said.

May looked at him sadly, her eyes bright with guilt and regret. "I honestly thought the pair of you would be good together," she whispered, "and I let Anna tell me Mary Jane hadn't meant anything by what she's said. I'm so sorry, Peter."

"It's alright," Peter whispered, shoving aside his churning emotions since it wouldn't do to lose his temper with her, "but you do realise, after this, I never want to be set on a blind date ever again?"

May looked down in shame and nodded.

Peter sighed and got up and hugged her. "It was a nice thought, but I'm not looking for love at the moment," he said, "I just want to focus on my school work, graduate, get to college… Maybe there I'll find a girlfriend. I feel more confident in myself than I've ever done before."

He was right. Thanks to the leopard DNA that had been spliced into his genes, he felt more confident and he was doing things with a completely different mindset to what he'd had in the past. But when he thought about girls, he realised he would need to turn over a new leaf when he went to college, though at the moment he was a long way from getting to that point.

"Anyway," Peter said, changing the subject and clapping his hands together gently, "I'd better be off to school. I'll be back later. I haven't got a shift today."

* * *

As he walked back from the bus stop, Peter was more than happy to be away from school, especially after the day he'd had. Flash had not been happy with what his girlfriend had done, though how long Flash and Mary Jane would still remain as the school's golden couple, he didn't know even Peter, with his lack of social experience, could tell it wasn't going to last.

The pair of them were arguing more often, and Flash was lashing out at everyone around him, but his main targets were Peter and Mary Jane. Peter had endured many of Flash's tantrums over the years, they were one of his most annoying habits, but even he was taken by surprise by how Flash seemed to tear the school and the bus apart just to get to him.

Fortunately, Mary Jane shouldered most of the aggravation from Flash. And she fought dirty, accusing Flash of things the jock had done and hadn't done, exaggerating everything out of proportion.

What was worse was how the two of them dragged him into the mess - Mary Jane would say that dating Peter would be better than dating Flash, for once the redhead didn't blab about what she really thought about him, which only served to make Flash angrier. He had already been furious seeing Peter at the party, now he was doing his level best as Mary Jane wound him up so tightly it was a miracle he could breathe.

Peter had also noticed the girl send him smug smirks which reminded him slightly of a little kid knowing something, or getting him into trouble, though he didn't stop to really pay any attention to her since he found her unpleasant to be around.

 _Not long to go now_ , Peter thought to himself, thinking about his graduation so he could at last study what he wanted without the neanderthal in the room driving him mad anymore. He only prayed he never encountered teenage drama like this at college, he doubted he could take the same crap again and again.

Using his key to get the front door open Peter called out, "I'm home."

The unwelcome form of Anna Watson appeared in the hall, her face dark with anger. But strangely enough, she didn't say a word as she picked up her handbag and her coat and left the house. Peter's eyes watched her go, though he wanted to know what she hoped to gain by having him date her niece who didn't like him as he had once liked her, he was too surprised to see her to actually ask his questions.

He closed the door as soon as she had stepped out, not caring if she was affronted, and he walked into the house and he found Aunt May sitting in a chair at the table, her head in her hands, shaking. From the sounds coming from her, she had been crying and his anger towards Anna Watson increased.

Peter walked over hesitantly. "Aunt May?" he whispered.

At the sound of his voice, May Parker lifted her head and did her best to smile back at him in greeting. "Peter, dear, how was school?"

"The usual," he added shortly, not bothering to tell her what happened with Flash and Mary Jane - he'd had enough drama today as it was, and it looked like his aunt had had a gut full herself today. "What happened, I met Mrs Watson outside?"

At the mention of Anna's name, Aunt May's face darkened and it looked like she wanted to either burst out crying again or shout and yell at the same time, but she couldn't tell what she wanted to do. "Mary Jane told Anna about what happened, giving Anna her own version," she replied bitingly, furious the girl would lie though Peter was not surprised. "Anna came around here thinking you had deliberately dumped her on the spot, calling her nasty names."

Peter was about to ask his aunt what those names were, but he decided against it. "Did you play the recording?" he asked, guessing she had otherwise Anna wouldn't have left the house without saying a word and being so angry.

Aunt May nodded. "She didn't take it well," she said in a redundant way, "in fact she told me we were not friends anymore."

Peter looked down. He didn't really care if Anna Watson was friends with his aunt, who needed all the friends in the world, but he didn't like the thought of being the wedge to drive them apart. "I'm sorry," he apologised.

"No," May's fierce voice made him look up, and when he did he was surprised to see her suddenly blazing eyes which were even more fierce because of how red they were, "it's not your fault. I was furious deep down when I heard what Mary Jane had done, and her insults against you were the final straw."

Peter was surprised his aunt was so forceful, but he could understand that underneath that she was upset.

* * *

Later on, as Peter got ready for bed, his mind was on the events of the day. Uncle Ben had been both angry and yet delighted by the news Anna Watson and Aunt May were no longer friends, he was angry by what she had said anyway. The good thing was Aunt May seemed to have adjusted better than her nephew and husband had expected, but as he thought about everything Peter was still angry by what the woman had put May through.

As he got ready for bed, he noticed a light on in Mary Jane's bedroom. He now knew why the girl had been smirking smugly at him all day, but he decided to not pay her any attention. He just closed his curtains and slotted in a DVD in the player and decided just to relax.

But as he did he looked around his bedroom, and he found himself walking over to the part of the room where the jewellery from the Capshaw burglary was being kept in. He took some of it out, studying it slowly in his hands, admiring as the light refracted off of one of the corners of the gemstone.

Peter had begun to miss the excitement of the high he'd experienced since he had burgled that house, and although he knew he had made some mistakes, he had wanted to more than make up for them with a second burglary, and now, as he thought about it, he had the perfect target.

Anna Watson.

It was too obvious, really though he wondered if he should because of the mutual dislike they shared, but he wondered if she would go as far as to accuse him of the burglary to the police.

In the end, he decided to chance it. He would wait for another week, which would give him plenty of time to prepare for the burglary. He needed to check out the neighbourhood for arrival and escape routes, see if Anna had any particular nosy neighbours (it was kind of hard to picture anyone as nosy and as opinionated as Anna, but you never knew), and develop the plan from there. He knew that Anna Watson, unlike Mrs Capshaw, would be more on the ball. She would know pretty quickly if someone had burgled her home.

Peter had checked the news for any mention of the burglary, and he had been amazed it had taken this long for the burglary to be reported to the police, thanks to Mrs Capshaw who had probably been so wasted it would be a miracle if she could even count to three, and they didn't have any leads so they fell back on the same old message, that they were looking for the perp and doing all they could.

* * *

At that moment Anna Watson was having a nasty conversation with Mary Jane over the phone. "Mary Jane," Anna told her niece in a scolding manner, which at the moment really suited her mood though she was tempted to be a bit more sharper with the girl, "the next time you decide to get a potential boyfriend, make sure they don't know you."

The confusion in her niece's voice made Anna close her eyes in exasperation. "What do you mean, Aunt Anna?" Mary Jane asked.

Anna held back the urge to sigh, and she put on her usual 'loving aunt favouring the niece' voice, though the way she was feeling it was quite the achievement. "You just can't do it, can you?" she said as lovingly as she could, but her current anger made it virtually impossible for her to completely maintain it since she was using the English language in ways she never really did when she spoke to her niece who simply didn't get the long term lessons. "You simply cannot keep your mouth shut when it comes to it," she paused to gather her thoughts, but that gave her niece the chance to speak, her voice not even hiding her feelings of surprise.

"Auntie, what do you mean?" There was hesitation in Mary Jane's voice, she knew something bad was going to be said, and the girl did not like it.

"I told you a long time ago when you told me you wanted a boyfriend like Peter Parker, though what you see in him is anybody's guess, you don't speak about him unless he isn't around; he heard what you said during that school trip to Oscorp, and heaven only knows what else since," Anna chided, letting some of her annoyance bleed through since she had lost the chance to really get to work on the Parker family. "His uncle asked some very good questions, Mary Jane; why didn't you go around to their home after the school trip and tell Peter you didn't mean what you said about him, it would have made life easier for later?"

"I told you, it was because of Flash; he wanted to have sex with me that night," Mary Jane replied.

Anna closed her eyes at the airheaded manner her niece thought with sometimes. While she didn't have any problems with her niece having sex since she was a teenager, Anna drew the line when it came to little things which could trip her up on her plans. "You could have still gone, Mary Jane," Anna let some of her anger bleed through, but she didn't raise her voice. Mary Jane was smart and she was definitely someone who thought much like her aunt did, from time to time, but she was sometimes so clueless.

Anna had taken over the raising of Mary Jane when the girl had moved onto the general area years ago. She had never understood why her sister had the mental capacity of a wife who loved being victimised and get rid of her lazy bastard of a husband, but her sister's raising of Mary Jane was like a see-saw; sometimes she was great, sometimes she was mediocre in her caring of the girl, so Anna had taken over. It hadn't taken long for Mary Jane to see Anna as someone who was her saviour. It had taken a few days out, some gifts, sweets, and things like that, and soon after that Anna began brainwashing and twisting Mary Jane, teaching her how to manipulate people and how to make money doing it. She took the little girl as her protege, and while the girl had certainly learnt her lessons well, she was still a long way from being brilliant. She had taught the girl to bide her time, keep watch over her victims before she began to bleed them dry.

Flash Thompson was one of the latest examples. He was gorgeous and strong, and although he wasn't particularly bright he was smart enough to know when Mary Jane was leading him on. The problem with her niece was when she had a heart of gold, it was often too difficult to break it out of her.

"Mary Jane, Peter used his mobile to record everything that happened; he recorded that little confrontation with Flash, what you said to him afterwards," Anna went on when she realised her niece would need to be pointed into the right direction.

She sighed mentally. _This was going to take a lot of work,_ she thought to herself.

* * *

Peter found an opportunity to take a look at Anna Watson's house a few days later when he told his aunt and uncle he was going to go jogging again, and he began jogging closer and closer to Anna's block. The good thing was the woman didn't live that far from where the Parkers lived, which made it easier for Peter.

When he reached the street, he pulled his hood up and jogged down it, studying the relevant house as he went. He had been to Anna Watson's house only once in the past, so he remembered the address like it was only yesterday. Once he jogged past, he began studying the area looking for the great places a burglar should like. The teenager was annoyed there weren't any back alleys he could have used to hide in and watch the house, but while this would have been a problem for a regular burglar it was not a problem for Peter. He used his leopard agility and his speed to stay in the shadows while he was on the rooftops, relying on his inherited genes to let him move across the tiles without making a sound; his feet's pads really did come in handy there, and he guessed with the additional cushioning of his trainers, his ability to move quietly was increased but he guessed it would have been better to simply go barefoot, but this was not the time for an experiment, and it made him realise he hadn't really bothered to test that part of what he could do.

It took him a while to find the right house, in fact, he needed to go back to looking at the houses from the front and simply keep count of how many houses he had to travel to just to reach the right one. The streets were practically empty and in the low lighting and the darkness of the shadows it was easy for Peter to use them to travel through.

Once he was in the shadows, he climbed up a fairly sturdy metal pipe with the screws drilled in, and he very gently scaled the pipe as silently as he could, listening closely to the sounds around him in case someone was watching and made a sound. Once he was confident there was no-one about, Peter returned to the rooftops and slowly and gently made his way back until he was once more on the rooftop of Anna Watson's house after he reached the right number.

When he got there, he took a moment to adjust to the darkness around him and he reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone and selected the app he'd downloaded earlier which detected CCTV systems. Peter had actually downloaded a couple of them on to his phone, based on how good their reviews were, though he didn't bother looking for a favourite app out of any of them.

As he studied the app he'd downloaded off of the internet to detect security cameras, he was surprised when he picked up sure signs of a few in the garden. Why did she have so many dotted around? She didn't have anything in the garden as far as he could tell that would be attractive to an average burglar, but then again he doubted any would target her specifically. But as he went around the house, very cautiously in case someone saw him from the other side of the road, he found that Anna Watson had two cameras on either side of the house, and two in the front compared to the four she had outback.

Why does she need to have ten cameras? Peter wondered to himself as he studied the phone screen, wondering what she could possibly have in her home that was so valuable she would go this far with her home security. There was light coming from the skylight window, so Anna was probably inside somewhere, and there were two lights that he could see reflecting into the garden from the rear of the house.

Peter looked down silently at the illuminated windows on the ground floor of the house, but he shrugged his shoulders as he knew he couldn't be sure of what was inside the house, at least until he actually went inside for himself, and with that thought in mind he studied the position of the cameras. He noted them down on a piece of paper he had brought with him, and using a pencil he gently sketched the basic outline of the house and went around the house again to note them down properly and as accurately as he could. When he was finished he used the route and method he had used to arrive at Anna Watson's house in the first place.

He had no intention of committing the burglary just yet, not with Anna up and about, so he would need to wait until the woman was out. Shimmying back down the drainpipe, Peter quickly remade himself into his usual self and he began the jog back home, but his mind was still on the upcoming job. Finding the right moment to break into Anna's house was not going to be easy, and for the first time ever he wished Anna hadn't renounced her friendship with Aunt May; usually May would go out with her, be it shopping or something else, but if he had that friendship it would have been easy to pick a time when he could break into her house, and he didn't have the time to keep watch over the house, especially without attracting unwanted attention.

As he jogged down the street, he thought about it as logically as he could as he drew closer to his home, and he spotted a security camera sitting on a pole, he realised he had his answer. He could use a wireless spy camera to keep him informed, and he could plant the camera in a blind spot in the front of Anna's home and keep watch for her and be informed on his mobile when she left. Such technology was easy to come by nowadays, and it would be child splay to set it up. It was the only thing he could use at the current time. When he got back home he would look online for what he would need to make this work.

* * *

Until the next time.


	14. Chapter 14 The Revenge on Anna Watson

As usual I own nothing.

Please leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter smirked underneath his mask as he stayed in the shadows of Anna Watson's house at night while he watched as the old woman left her house, dressed to the nines as she got into her car (he did wonder how she could claim she was so hard up when her car looked like it was top of the line whenever the overdramatic old hag kept saying 'how bad things were' whenever she had arrived at his house, but he decided it didn't matter).

While he waited for her to get into her car and drive away though he planned to wait right where he was to make sure the woman didn't come back by chance and find him going through her home, Peter had time to reflect on everything he had done these last few weeks on the run-up to graduation which was now so close after he had waited for it for so long so he could go to college, and finally learn real science and technology.

After he had checked out Anna Watson's house that night, he had returned home and immediately checked online for miniature cameras that were small and compact enough to do their jobs, but after a while he realised he didn't need to use cameras at all though he made a mental note to get his hands on some cameras and the app he would need to get them to work right, but he had downloaded an app to his mobile that allowed him to tap into Anna Watson's phone.

Okay, part of him was still cringing at the lack of morality in tapping into the old woman's phone, but truthfully it was great having a means of keeping tabs on her in order to prepare for the burglary.

Peter had at first listened in to the conversations, which were frankly bizarre - it sounded like Anna was threatening people, but he had quickly stopped; he didn't know and frankly didn't want to know what Anna was doing, though it did sound truly odd that Anna would speak to someone in a threatening manner. He had always seen her as an inconvenience, really, never someone who threatened others.

In any case, when he had started to use the tracking app, he had lost interest in Anna's bizarre phone habits, especially when he discovered that she frequently went out to bingo, but according to the tracking code of the software he'd downloaded into his mobile, she sometimes went out to posh and swanky restaurants, sometimes with Mary Jane.

That had surprised him; Peter had never heard Anna mention anything about bingo in all the time he'd known her, but he guessed it made sense she would want to keep some things secret, but why would she want to keep his Aunt May out of things like that when she knew how desperate his aunt was for new friends?

But what had puzzled him the most was just how…rich some of the Watsons were, though it was clear only a few members of the family were actually that well off. It was just so weird, but Peter hadn't seen any reason to not continue with his plan to burgle the house.

The revving of an engine made him stiffen and he reflexively stepped further back into the shadows, and he watched as Anna left in her car and drove away, but the teenager didn't leave his hiding spot for a few minutes as he waited to see if Anna returned because she had forgotten something and realised it.

After a few minutes of waiting for any sign of Anna returning, Peter was about to step out into the open and head to the door so then he could carry out the first part of his plan, only to curse in annoyance when he spotted Anna's car appear. Scuttling back into the hiding spot again, biting his tongue to stop himself spewing out a slew of nasty insults against Anna, the Watson family, and half of the human race, Peter went back to standing still for Anna to come in and out, so he could begin.

When she came back out of the house again after a few moments and drove off again, Peter continued to wait and keep an eye out in case the old woman returned, but this time she didn't.

Cautiously Peter stepped out of the shadows, and he headed over to the front door in full view of the security cameras. Taking a deep breath under his mask, he pressed the doorbell and let it ring a couple of times before he stepped away from the door, and went down the alleyway again to the backdoor where the cameras would definitely pick him up.

He didn't want the police to think he had tapped Anna's phone, never mind he had visited the property already and knew about the cameras. He just wanted them to think he was an ordinary burglar who had gotten lucky. The fewer clues the police had that he'd tapped into Anna's phone (he would remove the tap soon, but not just yet), the better.

When he reached the backdoor, he made a show of taking out of his backpack some tools he'd brought to deal with the lock. Peter wished he could have used his superhuman strength to just snap the tumblers inside the lock through sheer pressure, but with the scattered cameras in the garden, he couldn't risk it.

With all the press coverage about mutants being so negative, Peter did not want to add any more fuel to the fire than there was already. And besides, there were dozens of groups out there who justified their actions against humanity simply because they could, and because of the misery caused by ordinary people, and there were other groups who took the opposite view, that mutants should not exist.

They were like modern examples of the KKK, or the Nazi party - the less they suspected one of New York's newest burglars of actually being someone who had been genetically spliced with leopard DNA, the better and as long as everyone in New York believed that he was just an ordinary, regular burglar, then he would be alright.

It didn't take long for Peter to get the door open, and when he did he took out a small black torch from his pocket. Anna had drawn the curtains before she had gone out, but he had expected that since she had always done that whenever she went out to bingo. But he didn't dare switch on the main light in case some neighbour with nothing better to do looked out of the window and noticed. Peter recognised the double-edged sword with the torch, but he was keeping the beam as far from the window as he could while he focused on the rest of the house, and he noted one or two things that would be great for him to steal before he went upstairs, taking care to keep the torchlight away from any windows.

It didn't take long for Peter to find Anna's bedroom. The best thing about the bedroom was, for some reason, he couldn't work out, Anna had left the curtains open, so there was just enough ambient light outside the house which gave Peter's leopard enhanced eyesight room to work.

Peter hurried over to the vanity table and pulled open drawers, and he smiled underneath his balaclava when he saw the jewellery boxes inside. It took him only a few moments to completely empty the drawers, when he was finished he walked over to the built-in wardrobe where he took a look at some of her clothes. They weren't as flashy as the clothes worn by celebrities like Paris Hilton, but Peter could definitely see they were not the type of clothes you bought secondhand. For a long moment, he was tempted. Just steal some of the clothes, sell them off….

No, it was not a good idea. While he had superhuman strength, he wouldn't be able to hide the fact he was carrying something from his aunt and uncle if they saw him go into the house. Maybe in the future when he had his own place, he would take more in the future, but not right now.

Closing the wardrobe, Peter left the bedroom to see if there was anything else he could steal in the house and he went next door, and he found an office inside painted a dark colour that he couldn't identify in this light. The office looked fairly basic to him; a neat desk with a collection of pens, pencils, ad calculator, chair for Anna to sit on, computer, a couple of trays laden with papers and letters that didn't really interest him. There were a couple of bookshelves laden with files and folders, and there was a TV and a DVD player next to a CD player Peter guessed Anna used to help her concentrate on her work when she was in here. but that was it. Peter walked over to the drawers. There was virtually nothing in them, just stationary supplies; pens, paperclips, things like that.

When he finished his search, he was about to leave when he noticed something odd about the room. The wall, the one facing the wall with the bookshelves, was too close to the window. There was something about the room which didn't make sense to him, and he stepped back into the room and he pressed his ear close to the wall and he began rapping on it - he would prefer to have a stethoscope, and he made a mental note to find one as soon as he could; if he came across something like this again, he wanted to be better equipped - and he slowly moved along the wall.

It didn't take long for Peter to hear a change to his rapping on the wall before the sound had been a wall that was solid but now it sounded…. hollow. The wall was hollow.

Peter pulled back and stared at the wall in surprise, and he looked at the window to see if there was a way to cover it, and he was relieved when he saw a blind covering the window, but there were two heavy curtains covering it. He smirked, Anna really did not want to keep this room hidden from view.

He gently pulled down the blind and then he drew the curtains and he hurried over to the door and closed it before he switched on the light and looked along the wall, and he instantly saw a faded sticker on the wall. Peter walked over to it slowly, keeping his ears attuned to the other sounds in the house, and he studied the sticker. It was of a large, old-fashioned, and faded version of Donald Duck. The plastic was covered with dirt on the surface and underneath it as well, but it was still visible.

Peter lifted up a finger on his left hand and gently rubbed the sticker, and it clicked as the hidden door swung slowly outward. Peter grinned and he looked inside the hidden room, the light in the office picking out the light switch on the wall. And he saw jars inside the hidden room.

When the light in the room was turned on, Peter was surprised when he saw jars on built-in shelves. They were filled with cash, but Peter was more interested in the books. He picked one of them up and he began flipping through the pages, and his eyes widened.

There were a number of entries in the book, written in Anna's neat handwriting; names, addresses, but next to the addresses was something he hadn't expected. One of the names and addresses had was of a man who had once been drunk driving, the entry read "murdered a child by accident - learnt that via hypnotherapy - further evidence attained," while another had "took photos during college years of the inside of a girl's sorority, hides it from wife and daughter," followed by "forged parent's wills to write other relatives out," and a third read "Ponzi scheme," all of them with incredible amounts of money.

Some of the entries had the word "continuing", which showed Anna didn't leave these people alone and continued to extort small amounts of money from them in order to keep her income going, but Peter was surprised by how many times "hypnotherapist" cropped up. He hadn't known Anna Watson was a hypnotherapist, but he imagined it made sense to him such a role would be something any blackmailer would want since it would allow them to get their hands on more cash. Peter looked thoughtfully at the book, and at the cash before he went to the shelves and took down the jars. He opened two of them up and he filled his bag with the money.

It took Peter half an hour to fill his bag with the money, and when he was finished he looked around the room for anything else before he decided to go, but he paused and looked at the desk with the book on it. He picked it up thoughtfully, casting his eyes on the other books lining the walls, and judging from the dates Anna had been blackmailing people for a long time, using her skills as a hypnotherapist and god knew what else to extort money while she also probably ran a few Ponzi schemes on the side, and perhaps other classic cons though Peter wondered how they could fall for something that obviously didn't work. He shrugged his shoulders dismissively, deciding they were irrelevant for now, in the meantime, he wanted to know what he was going to do now because he didn't think Anna should get away with something like this before he spotted a number of newspapers and magazines which seemed odd.

Peter took one of them curiously and found that certain letters or words in the pages had been carefully cut out. He remembered an old trick in kidnap letters you saw in movies and on TV had the kidnapper using letters cut out of a newspaper or a magazine being stuck together to form ransom demands in letters demanding cash for the life of a loved one or a colleague. From the look of it, Anna used the same trick, which made sense given she wouldn't want to advertise too much about herself to her victims, much like Peter didn't when he had broken into the house earlier.

And yet… as he looked at the cut up newspapers and magazines, Peter had the idea in his mind he could make a letter himself and send it off with details about Anna's blackmailing operation and one of the books, which would be enough, and she would be arrested. No, that would take too long, he decided. There was something much better than that.

A grin spread across Peter's face underneath his mask as the idea entered his mind. Taking one last check in the room to make sure all of the money was in his bag, Peter left the room and the office, not even bothering to switch off the light, and he headed downstairs to the telephone.

He picked up the phone and tapped in the number.

It was picked up after a few rings. "911 emergency?"

Keeping his voice disguised, Peter whispered, "There's been a break in.."

* * *

Sitting in the dark shadows of a nearby rooftop, Peter watched as the police car appeared, and according to his watch, he could tell it had taken seven minutes for the cops to arrive on the call. Not bad, he thought to himself as he watched the police arrive at the door of Anna Watson's house and found it wide open. Peter stayed on the rooftop and watched as the police officers entered the house, and he checked off the minutes before the police found the hidden room.

Peter smirked when the cops came out and one of them made a call to the station and asking for a detective, and he decided he had been here long enough when he noticed the time on his watch. He'd better get back home; he had told his aunt and uncle he had planned to go into the city again to search for work. He had indeed gone to the city, but he had come back early to commit the burglary. It was the only way he could stay out for a long time without suspicion. Peter pulled back into the shadows of the rooftop, and soon he was gone.

* * *

Until the next time...


	15. Chapter 15 Graduation

I don't own Spider-Man.

Feel free to leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

While the crowd cheered as graduation took place, Peter couldn't wipe the smile off of his face while he stood with his classmates and their grade - while he was slightly irritated they were going to be coming with him to college, it wasn't much of a problem for him since they all had completely different courses, so the chances of the worst bullies attacking him were remote - and stood as photos were taken.

Fortunately, the worst of the graduation was out of the way; Peter had written his very short speech a long time ago, editing it a bit here and there, but it wasn't anything complicated and then there was the ridiculous ritual where everyone threw those motor board caps into the sky, but if it meant getting into higher education then Peter would welcome it.

Peter headed over to his uncle and aunt who were beaming at him, and Peter couldn't help but keep his smile on his face the whole time.

He had been waiting to go to college for so long, it was hard to believe the day had finally come.

As he walked towards Uncle Ben and Aunt May, Peter overheard a couple of raised voices, and he turned his head slightly and he immediately wished he hadn't bothered; Flash and Mary Jane were arguing again, though both of them looked like they had already made their plans to simply part ways, they weren't going to leave without a fight.

They had been fighting for weeks, their relationship falling to pieces to shatter on the ground, but with the arrest of Anna Watson, things had been getting worse. In fact, the revelation of what Anna had been doing, blackmailing people, had actually done near irreparable damage to Mary Jane's image, though what it had done for the rest of the Watson family, Peter did not know.

Anna Watson's arrest had made headlines, though considering how long her own criminal career and what she had been doing; using her hypnotherapist job to con people out of money, blackmailing them after finding bits and pieces that her victims really didn't want to be revealed, setting up Ponzi schemes….At first he'd been taken by surprise by how the story had leaked out, but fortunately, the newspapers weren't milking the whole thing, but they had described the crimes of blackmail, con tricks, and investment fraud very well and now Anna Watson's reputation was in the gutter where it belonged.

The Watsons had received their fair share of recrimination due to the crimes Anna had committed, but while Peter and the Parkers had overheard the arguments inside the Watson household which led to no-where, just like always, the Watsons had come out of the whole thing unscathed though how they were doing in actual fact, Peter had no idea and he didn't really care. The same could not be said of Mary Jane since she received a lot of negative attention, but not so much because none of the other students were worried, really.

Peter had no idea how the arrest had affected Anna's other friends, but considering Aunt May's own shocked reaction that a burglar had called the police personally about the number of cons and blackmails she'd committed, it was safe for him to say Anna Watson's reputation was in tatters.

Aunt May touched his face and kissed him proudly on the cheek while Uncle Ben patted him on the back. "We're so proud of you, Peter!" Aunt May beamed.

"Thanks, Aunt May," Peter replied.

Uncle Ben's face was crinkled as he smiled at his nephew. "So, you've finally graduated, eh?" he asked jokingly. "Took long enough."

"I know," Peter replied, "and I can't wait to go to college."

Uncle Ben shook his head, amazed that any kid wanted to go to school but that was Peter for you. He had always wanted to work hard at life, but before he could say anything else, they overheard two familiar voices. The three Parkers turned as one and found themselves staring at the still-arguing forms of Flash and Mary Jane.

Peter sighed when Mary Jane finally yelled that it was over, and she stormed off dramatically away from Flash, and he quickly looked away before the jock noticed him staring.

"Didn't take long," Peter remarked.

While he didn't like Flash and liked Mary Jane even less after discovering she had only taken him along to that date in the hope of getting someone to do everything for her, though he still had some doubts about that, though it was the only thing that made sense to him in his mind, he truly felt sorry for Flash because he had such a harpy for a girlfriend.

Aunt May shook her head slightly and looked at Peter. "Will you be meeting them at college, Peter?" she asked, worriedly.

"Yeah. We've got different courses but that's all," Peter replied, once more thanking his lucky stars the college wasn't just larger than Midtown High, but Mary Jane and Flash both had completely different courses to what he had.

"You'd better keep away from them both, just in case," Uncle Ben remarked, though both May and Ben knew Peter was going to do that regardless.

"I intend to," Peter replied, knowing his aunt and uncle were only looking out for him since Mary Jane had proven to be someone different from whom they'd expected her to be. But as he glanced at Flash once more, Peter shook his head in disbelief, seriously amazed it had taken so long for their relationship to fall apart into little bits.

His leopard-enhanced hearing caught the sound of someone jogging towards him, but Peter didn't move as he gave the impression he hadn't heard; it had taken a fair bit of training to make him slow to react the sounds or scent of someone approaching him, but with his fears of someone finding out about what had happened to him at Oscorp, lessened as they were since no-one had come after him, it was important he continued to act as 'Puny Parker,' though the time he'd fought against Flash was one of those times where he had gladly bent the rule but it still took a lot of effort to hold back the leopard instinct to turn around.

"Hey, Pete!" the voice of Harry Osborn called as he drew closer.

Peter pretended to be slightly surprised Harry had jogged towards him while he saw Aunt May and Uncle Ben both give the teenagers some space.

"Hey, Harry," Peter greeted, though he wondered what the other guy wanted.

"I've just heard from my father," Harry's face went a little downcast, and Peter instantly realised that once more Norman Osborn hadn't bothered to show up at his own son's graduation, "he says the apartment in the city is ready for us."

"That's great news," Peter replied with a smile.

While he had made his own plans to find and rent out an apartment of his own so then he would be closer to the college and to any place of work once he'd gotten it in the city, Peter hadn't said no to Harry's offer about living in an apartment, though the downside was he would be living with someone else. There were dozens of benefits to living with someone else, but with Peter's burglaries going on he didn't want to run the risk of the other guy finding out by accident.

He had been hesitant at first at accepting the offer since he wanted to be independent, and when he had gotten into burglary and found enjoyment out of it, he had also wanted to give himself a base of operations for when he went out committing them. He had been tempted to refuse Harry's offer and say he was going to live on his own, but he had finally decided to go for it because there weren't any suitable apartments close enough to the college for him to choose from - he and his Uncle had personally checked a few out, and some of them wanted rents which were quite high.

It was a matter of economics.

It was also slightly annoying since he had really wanted to find a place by himself so then he could continue carrying out burglaries without anyone knowing anything different.

After the business with Anna, Peter had burgled two other people, but when he got into the city he would have richer pickings and he knew it. The only problem was Harry, but he had quickly realised that he could take advantage of a few factors so Harry never discovered the truth.

While he didn't know yet for sure what living with Harry would be like, Peter felt he could put up with it since he had to, and besides, he doubted Harry would give him much trouble since he had his own interests.

"We can move in at the end of the week," Harry went on, unaware of Peter's thoughts.

"Great, just give me the address, and I'll move in with my stuff," Peter replied before he realised it might be a good idea on his part to make some conversation. "So, er, how is it going? I haven't seen you in a while," he added, though as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Peter wished he could suck them back inside again. So much had happened in his life, and at such a short time that often he had problems himself believing what had happened to him - the incident at Oscorp, the discovery and the training of his leopard abilities, being in the middle of the drama of Mary Jane and Flash, the fight with Flash, and the burglaries he'd committed, but he had little idea of how to integrate with the others around him.

Harry sent him a look that spoke volumes but then shook his head. "Ah, it's okay," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand though Peter knew the other guy well enough to know it wasn't okay, "with everything Flash and MJ put you through, its no wonder you've been keeping to yourself."

Peter wasn't sure how to answer that, so he just nodded his head in response. Truthfully Peter had no idea what Harry's opinion was about the whole matter, and truthfully he wasn't really bothered.

"So, are you ready for college?" Harry asked with a change of mood.

"Definitely," Peter replied at last, "I've been ready for a long time-."

"Yeah, for more geek stuff, Parker!"

Peter stiffened when he heard Flash's voice and he turned and found the jock standing only a few feet away to his left. For a moment Peter wondered why he hadn't heard or smelt the jock's approach, but he pushed that out of his mind when he saw the expressions on his aunt and uncle's faces, but he raised a hand and made sure they both saw it. He didn't want them getting involved with this.

"No Flash," Peter replied, his sympathy for the jock just escaping him. "I want to get somewhere in life. Somewhere far from you, from Mary Jane, and all the other dramas in this dump." Peter smirked when he saw the way Flash's expression darkened when Mary Jane was mentioned, but he got over it quickly.

"Leave it, Flash," Harry said calmly, looking between the two while May and Ben looked on from the sidelines. Peter looked at the jock without total disinterest on his face, though he was tensed and ready for a fight even if the last thing he wanted to do was actually get into a fight with Flash who didn't seem to learn anything from his mistakes.

Flash sneered at Harry, and uncharacteristically he turned around and walked off in a rage. Peter rolled his eyes, thinking it was a pity Mary Jane had dumped Flash - the pair were suited to one another.

Harry was visibly surprised Flash had just given up the way he had. "I thought he was going to stay longer," he commented with a glance at Peter, but Peter wasn't bothered.

"Ah, it doesn't matter," Peter replied, guessing the jock had been steamed up since Mary Jane had ditched him and he felt he needed to vent his spleen, but he was just as curious about what had made the jock just walk off - it was doubtful he'd care about the presence of Aunt May and Uncle Ben, so Peter just shoved it out of his mind, deciding he'd had more than enough of Flash's bullshit after spending most of his life subjected to it.

"Are you sure? I mean, I know he has hurt you in the past-," Aunt May said, but Peter shook his head as reassuringly as he could at her.

"I am," he assured her with a confident smile that surprised Ben and Harry because they had never really known Peter to be confident about anything in the past, something which wasn't lost on Peter and he thanked his lucky stars he'd become a burglar since it had given him a confidence in himself he hadn't even known he'd possessed.

His smile faded. "Flash is nothing more than an angry kid lashing out 'cause I'm no longer playing his game," Peter replied. "But when I get to college, hopefully, he will have forgotten the worst of today and just leave me alone; the fact he's not in any of the courses I've chosen makes it simpler for me to avoid him, and even if we do meet, it should be brief."

Peter only hoped he sounded more confident than he actually felt. While he was sure Flash would be too busy with whatever he planned to do at college other than his sports courses to bother him, Peter was not sure if the jock would actively go out of his way to harass him at other times during the day.

* * *

A few days later Peter looked at the things he had packed in his suitcase as he got ready to join Harry in the apartment Osborn senior had rented out for them on his son's behalf, although Peter did have to ask himself again if Norman had done it to get rid out Harry. Well, that was Harry's concern, not his.

Peter was just relieved he had a place to live in.

Most of his clothes were already inside the case while his backpack held a few books and his laptop and the chargers for said laptop and his mobile, but in the recesses of both were the things he had stolen during his burglaries. When he had packed up the jewellery he'd pinched, he had almost let out a leopard-like growl of frustration; he was still a long way from finding a way, a practical way of actually getting rid of the lot. The money he'd stolen was easy enough - all he'd needed to do was launder it slowly into the family bank account, and when he moved into the city and took his new job up, it would be even simpler for him to launder the cash into his own bank account and the family account and say he had found a second job or something along those lines without the risk of Aunt May or Uncle Ben finding out.

When he went to grab a few DVDs from the shelf to take with him - he was planning on treating this like a video rental; he'd take a few films with him to Harry's, watch them for a bit, come back and exchange them for something new - Peter remembered the mental note he'd made for his own benefit to do another search of the bedroom to make sure all of the jewellery he'd pinched was not in the room.

His aunt and uncle may both respect his privacy, but the risk of them finding either a ring or a bracelet studded with diamonds was too great a risk without him there to make sure they didn't find anything.

But overall, Peter was delighted. He was off to college, and now he was finally freed from Midtown High.

Today was just the first day for the rest of his life.

* * *

Until the next time...


	16. Chapter 16 There will be a Reckoning

As much as I'd like to, I don't own Spider-Man, and I'm back with a new chapter.

Spoiler alert - Norman Osborn makes a nice return, but he will have a more serious role in the rest of the story. I wanted the story to focus on Peter and how he became a burglar in New York.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

A few weeks later after he had just finished his classes for the day, Peter thought about everything that had happened in his life, and the walk up the stairs gave him enough time to think.

In a way, the college was both like Midtown High and yet it was the best thing to happen to Peter education wise for a really long time, but he had already known Empire State wouldn't be a magical place where everyone and everything would be super-wonderful.

The demands and the lessons were far more gruelling here than they would have been at High School, but Peter wouldn't have had it any other way since he was enjoying himself, and thanks to his new fresh start he did his best to leave his shell and shed the last remnants of his old High School image one last time, something which helped since all of his classes were based solely in technology and science.

Fortunately, many of the class didn't have a problem with him and he fitted right in, especially since many of that particular group had endured much the same things he had at their own schools, so he didn't need to do much in order to gather some new friends there.

 _Friends._

The concept of friendship was still something new to him, especially given how cynical he had become in his final years at Midtown High of the whole thing; Mary Jane Watson and the other girls had proven to be selfish people who didn't care for anything other than themselves, Flash Thompson still believed bullying him was the funniest thing ever, and Harry Osborn only used him for homework in return for which he would try to nudge Flash's attention elsewhere.

But not here.

Here in Empire State he was finally among people who were like him. But Peter shoved those thoughts aside as he walked up the stairs to the apartment he and Harry were sharing, and his mind turned to consider those weird events that were going around.

There were rumours in the city of some…thing on some type of aircraft that was going around terrorising parts of the city, some maniac dressed in black or some other colour but witness statements were so varied and confused, it was virtually impossible for any decent eyewitnesses to give an accurate description.

All the newspapers could agree upon was the figure was capable of flight, they wore some type of strange body armour, and the face was that of a grotesque mask but reports there differed since no-one was sure if it was a goblin's face or a ghoul. The newspapers were going crazy, which was a completely different attitude when this whole thing started up, but since this weirdo was striking here and there in places that didn't seem to be special at all, though recently whoever this guy was had begun attacking police precincts and even a fire station, causing so much damage it was a miracle the building still had a roof, the newspapers had gone wild with theories about who he (or she) was as the stories and the sightings became more numerous and were taken more seriously than they had been before.

Peter didn't really care, just like everyone else in the city. Let the so-called super-heroes deal with the problem, just like they had when New York had been devastated, and the Avengers had only made things just as bad even if they had defeated the invaders. In the meantime, he had more important things to cope with. He had classes to get to, a job to handle, and he had his aunt and uncle to visit whenever he had the time (oh god, he hoped they didn't ask him any more questions about his social life; he sometimes wished he had never let slip he had become more friendly with people. His aunt and uncle had, quite logically, in his mind felt that one day he would bring a girl home with him, but Peter was no longer sure about his stance on the subject since he'd had the time to think, and besides the girls in the group were fairly cute though he wasn't sure right this minute), his life had so many other important things going on right now he didn't have time about some guy flying around wearing a fright mask.

However, thinking about the guy flying around the city made him think about his own powers and his own burglaries. Peter had not burgled anyone for some time though he was coming close to planning some new ones, he had just wanted to spend some time settling down before he did anything quite like that.

He had wanted to know what it was like at college and get settled before he thought about committing another burglary, but now he felt ready to start some new burglaries, and since he was now almost slap-bang in the middle of the city it shouldn't be too hard to find a job to pull without needing to go too far.

In a few weeks time, Harry would be hosting a party at his home which should, hopefully, give him a nice big target to choose from, but apparently Harry wouldn't be hosting the party until after the Unity Day Festival that was going to be held, as always, in Time's Square because his father would be tied up afterwards for big meetings and the Osborn's home would be freed up for a while, but those were matters for Harry to work out for himself. All Peter had to do was simply attend the party and get a look at the layout of the Osborn family home and get an idea of how he would burgle it later on.

On the other hand, Peter felt he was free to have some free time which gave him plenty of time to find ways of developing his repertoire as a master thief. He had thought about it for some time ever since his burglary on Anna Watsons' place, and he realised now he had been bitten by the bug, the thrill of the heist, he wanted more. With access to the library, he had access to old maps of the city to find old sewers or abandoned subway tunnels which ran quite close to places in the city which would be ripe targets, and the best thing was no-one would realise what he was doing until it was too late. And besides, why break in through a window or a door when you could simply find a way in no-one would ever think of imagining?

Still, for the time being, he would be taking a break from burglary, though he would be going over the architectural books he had borrowed from the library, and make notes along the way.

When he reached the apartment he shared with Harry, he dug through his pockets for the key. While he was rooting through them Peter had a moment to ponder on how things were going with Harry. The other guy was busy with his own courses, and he seemed to have worked out the fact he would need to do things on his own, for which Peter was happy about since it didn't seem right doing someone else's work for them.

Peter briefly checked his watch and wondered what Harry was doing right now, and he hoped it tied his 'friend' up for another hour or so because he wanted to both count some cash that he wanted to deliver to the bank in the next few days, and also check the architectural plans he'd managed to get from the library.

Once he found the key he opened the door and walked into the apartment, closing the door on the way and he took a deep sniff. There was no sign of Harry, no fresh scent. However, there was one smell that he didn't recognise, showing someone else had been in the apartment - someone who liked a particularly expensive aftershave, a scent he recognised.

Norman Osborn.

The older Osborn had been coming to the apartment a few times recently to check on his son to see how his investment that was the apartment was going even if Peter had privately arranged for the whole thing so he could get some peace away from Harry, so Peter put it out of his mind, but he looked around for a few minutes but there was no sign the other teen was in the apartment. He had the place to himself for the time being.

After fixing himself some coffee from the small kitchen, Peter went to his room, piling the work from his classes on the desk; he had to admire Norman Osborn's staff for organising this place the way it was needed. The two rooms were each given a desk to work on, TVs and DVD players for the apartments' tenants to entertain themselves with, but Harry and Peter had to work to keep the place clean and tidy, and they had to buy and cook their own food.

Peter was okay with that, and sometimes he cooked for both himself and Harry, though finding out how the other guy often ate out or brought fast food back with him wasn't a problem for him since Peter did feel it was kind of a cheat that a grown guy needed someone else to help him take care of himself, but truthfully he didn't care.

As he looked around the apartment, he headed for the bed where his luggage bag was held to check if the money and the jewellery he'd stolen was still there. Harry had annoyingly begun borrowing some of his socks, though why Peter had no idea since Harry wasn't the type of guy to 'stake his territory' in the flat, so Peter had to guess the other guy had not worked out how many socks or other clothes he needed for college. Either way, Peter had no other place to hide the loot and it was one of the biggest problems he had in the apartment and he couldn't hide it anywhere else.

It was the access he would have to other banks that was one of the reasons why Peter had brought the whole lot with him, deciding it was worth the risk. Anyway, he had opened an account he had no intention of telling his aunt or uncle about - his conscience wasn't really affected, and he had spent time filling their account as well as his with money stolen from his heists slowly, so win-win.

His aunt and uncle assumed he was paying them money from his jobs, and he was not going to change their assumption since there was a grain of truth to it since he did give them money from his job, but not all of it since they knew he would need some cash to support himself.

Sitting down at his desk, he counted out only forty dollars and placed it in one of his wallets. He had bought a fresh one which he would keep on his person secretly. He used this particular wallet to house all of the money he had stolen for taking it round to the bank.

As he slipped the money into the wallet, Peter opened the book where he'd hidden the photocopies of New York's architectural plans, and he looked over them. He was just getting into his stride when he heard the door bang open and Harry's voice booming through the apartment, "Pete! I'm home!"

Wincing at the poor Flintstones' impression he was sure Harry had come up with, Peter quickly shoved the photocopies into a drawer of his desk to hide the photocopies as quietly as he could before he stood up and walked to the door of his room and poked his head out.

"Hey, Harry," Peter greeted, seeing Harry was carrying a very large pizza box. Peter hoped Harry had bought it for himself because he really wasn't in the mood for pizza, not tonight, but then he noticed Harry looking around with an unusual expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked though he knew the answer.

"Hmm?" Harry seemed surprised by the question, but he recovered quickly. "Oh, just my dad."

"Oh no, what happened now?" Peter had to school his voice so then his apathy didn't show any more than the fact he had already known about Norman's visit beforehand.

Harry didn't seem to have noticed, luckily for him. "He came by for his weekly inspection to make sure we hadn't burnt the place down or something," he sneered at the thought but there was also a grimace of hurt feelings there, "but he spent most of the visit on the phone."

Peter know what else to say. He had gone out of his way to keep out of the tangled mess that was Norman and Harry Osborn's relationship, but times like this were far from infrequent. "Did he say anything?"

"No, anyway what are you having to eat?" Harry asked quickly, changing the subject smoothly. "I got us some pizza."

"Actually I'm tempted to do myself some sausages, bacon and omelette," Peter said just as smoothly. "I wanted something different."

"Oh, okay," Harry said, clearly curious about the choice but it was clear he wasn't going to comment on it.

* * *

Seated at the head of the meeting table, Norman Osborn was presiding over a meeting he had been waiting for patiently for the last few weeks. Ever since the strange destruction of Quest's pet project, Norman had been quietly doing his best to focus on most of the more outstanding projects his own company had in the works, and without Slocum's beady little eyes spying on everything he did, scrutinising him and making his life more troublesome than it needed to be, Norman could say it had been time well spent while Quest and the military worked to mitigate the damage.

Somehow they had managed to keep the whole mess out of the newspapers, however, they had cited the destruction of their precious super-soldier as 'pilot error,' but Norman knew better.

Or rather…. the Green Goblin did. As Norman presided over the meeting, he felt like a little boy, a devilish and evil little boy crowing about a little secret only he himself knew about.

"And so, ladies and gentlemen," Norman said to finish up the meeting, trying to keep his facial expressions as sane as he could - not an easy task though he doubted the board members would take him cackling like a lunatic very well, "I am pleased to say Oscorp Industries has surpassed all other principal suppliers of military hardware. To ensure our momentum continues to gather pace, I have arranged for scientists and engineers from different projects to work for others, and for the last few weeks, I am happy to say the results speak for themselves. Our situation is looking extremely encouraging - our costs are down, our revenue is up, and our stock has never looked healthier or higher in our history."

"That's great news, Norman."

"Yes, most impressive," someone else said, "which is why we're selling the company."

It took all of Osborn's sell control to not show all of his surprise at what he had just heard. At first, he thought he had misheard, but he knew he hadn't, but it was hard because he knew the surprise would be followed by his anger. "What?" he asked in a very small voice.

Osborn could not believe what he had just heard.

He had known his board members could not be trusted at times, but he had never imagined they would go this far.

"Yes, Quest is beginning to expand in the wake of the bombing. They've made us an offer which we cannot refuse."

"Think about it Norman, with access to Quest's resources, we can grow Oscorp in ways we never imagined," someone else said to placate him. But they were wasting their time, and they were just too stupid to not realise it. The idea sounded reasonable, but not to Norman Osborn.

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" Norman asked, letting some of his goblin personality slip in, but he couldn't help it. He was furious by what was happening and he was rapidly losing his composure, but more than that, how could he have missed the reorganisation that was being described? Had him being the Green Goblin dulled his business wits?

 **No, you fool! This was something neither of us foresaw!**

Norman closed his eyes when he heard the voice of the Green Goblin enter his mind fully, echoing through his brain like the clanging of a church bell, and it took all of Norman's concentration not to clap both his hands to his ears to silence the voice - he was trying to maintain his composure, show that he was himself and didn't share his mind with a demon. Still, it was close, and the fools here were really trying his last shreds of patience.

"They don't want a power struggle," a board member spoke, all of them unaware of his internal struggle to maintain control.

"The deal will only work if you step down, Norman. This board expects your resignation within the next thirty days," the ultimatum only made this growing nightmare even worse than the revelation, and by the end of the shocking and surprising announcement Norman was trying really hard not to reveal his goblin identity, but fortunately the warring emotions he was feeling - shock and anger - were doing a good job of holding the goblin at bay even though he wished he had a bomb so he could vaporise everyone in this room barring himself.

It wouldn't do for it to be revealed, not right now.

Over the last few weeks as the Green Goblin, Norman Osborn and the Green Goblin had practically become one person. Although he was proud of his identity as Norman Osborn, he had quickly discovered that the Green Goblin was his true identity.

Still trying to hold his true self at bay, Osborn staggered to his feet, looking at each and every one of the board seated at the table. He was about to talk to them, ask them to change his mind, but he quickly saw it would be a complete waste of his time and energy to do so.

They meant every word they had said. They wanted this deal.

They wanted him gone.

And his temper started to ignite. His temper was currently like a match being doused in a can of gas within a few milliseconds of it igniting as one revelation after revelation took him by surprise.

"You can't do this," Norman said, deciding to pretend to reason with them, but already he was dreaming up ways of making them all pay the price. _Hmm, maybe I should wipe out their families?_ _ **YES!**_ _That sounds like a great idea -_ _ **No!**_ _Too complicated, I want to wipe them all out in one go…._

"Do you have any idea how much I SACRIFICED getting this company to where it was today?" Osborn screamed at the board, uncaring if he came across as deranged while he let some of the Green Goblin bleed out into his voice though he hoped none of the insanity came through.

The sudden, almost bestial, roar that came out of Osborn's throat took the board by surprise, but he didn't care; memories of how he had forsaken his wife and son before her untimely death sprang to his mind, the deep-rooted sadness within him that he was essentially abandoning Harry in all but kicking him out of their home rearing its head.

Norman had always buried those feelings because he had wanted to give his son a legacy, something that he would accept when he was much older and had children of his own though he had always known deep down Harry resented it, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

But Norman was going to be damned if he was going to let this happen, and he felt his goblin half scream with approval while he came up with ways of making them all regret this.

The scream made one or two members of the board visibly uncomfortable, he could see that, and he dialled back the anger a little bit even though he wanted to unleash it, but he needed to think straight. _How had things come to this? Was this something they'd had in mind for a while, and were they waiting for the right opportunity?_

It seemed like the obvious answer to him.

Norman was a businessman, first and foremost though the Green Goblin was something more, something darker, something virtually uncontrollable. He knew opportunities frequently came up, and as an experienced businessman he had learnt how to look out for them, but he had forgotten this bunch were shrewd enough to look for opportunities as well.

But maybe he should try to give them a chance to change their minds even though he knew he was wasting his time, but he decided to do it anyway. Putting on an act which conveyed he was tired, Norman turned to his associates. "Please, don't do this," he said in a more calmer, measured tone, but even as he spoke he knew they had condemned themselves.

"Norman, the board's decision is final. You're out," someone said in what someone else would take to be in an apologetic way, but Norman knew they were anything but apologetic.

"The sale will be announced after the World Unity festival."

Norman held back the urge to sneer. The festival was a joke, a means by everyone here to give the company some positive PR, and while it worked to some degree, all it did was tie up too much of his time and energy. Still, there was something symbolic about selling the company he had devoted his life to; by selling the company afterwards they'd get more public notice, and once more he felt physically sick at what he was hearing, and he was having a harder time controlling the goblins' urge to wipe them out here and now, but even without his weapons he would do it.

He had the super strength and power to tear into them. Yes!

He could rip out their throats, crush their skulls, pick them up bodily and then bend them in half until their spines snapped like matchwood.

But Norman fought himself not too - without his suit and glider he wouldn't be able to cover up their murders, and it was that rationality that gave way to a plan…

The board had no way of knowing they were signing their own death warrants. One of them whispered in a slow way as if speaking to a child, an attitude Norman became more infuriated with and he had to remind himself of the plan he'd just dreamt up so he couldn't just kill them here and now.

"You're out, Norman."

Norman Osborn lifted his head and glared at the supercilious faces around the table. "Am I?" he whispered back, unable to hold back the menace in his tone.

They wanted to sell the company after the festival, but how could they do that when they were dead?

After all, a festival was a nice public place to die…

* * *

Until the next time..


	17. Chapter 17 The Rise of the Green Goblin

Disclaimer - I own nothing.

Feel free to let me know what you think - I am trying something different here.

Enjoy!

* * *

The Leopard from New York

The Green Goblin laughed in anticipation and in triumph as he felt the heat of the sun seeping through his powered suit, feeling the air-conditioning system soak up the air as he flew over the city. The Unity Festival had begun over two hours ago, which meant it was almost time for the reign of the Green Goblin to begin.

He laughed again, anticipating the mayhem he would be bringing to the Festival.

As he flew his glider over the city, he could feel the thrill of anticipation in his chest at the prospect of beginning the journey which would lead the Goblin to controlling the city. Today, not only would he be removing the shadow that shrouded his company and organisation and had wrested control away from him and had done a deal behind his back, making the board members pay the price for their duplicity while erasing their smug condescension out of his memory forever while he regained control of his company in the process, but he would also be bringing the Green Goblin into the open for the first time. Underneath the Goblin's mask, Norman cackled with delight as he controlled and directed his glider through the air, speeding towards the festival, laughing as he felt the sun's rays hit the optical lenses of his mask which were polarised to protect his eyes from the light, rejoicing that he, the Green Goblin was, at last, coming out into the open.

It was a start, but after launching fairly small attacks on other targets such as that police precinct, the Goblin was willing to take things to the next level, but the board were a bonus. Underneath his mask, Norman Osborn stopped laughing as he thought about the board's treachery. His goblin self was right, he couldn't have anticipated what the board had done, but it didn't stop him from feeling angry.

When he felt his temper begin to surface, Norman fought to shove a lid back on top of it; getting angry would not help him while he was in the air travelling towards the site of the festival, and besides when he got there he would have the perfect opportunity to lose his temper on the board members when he found them.

While he was flying to control his temper, Norman focused on his surroundings; his optical lenses picked up on people in the various buildings, and judging from their reactions they had noticed him as well, and were wondering who and what he was. The Green Goblin didn't bother to pay them any attention. There was plenty of time to show everyone in New York who he was while he both consolidated his hold over New York and kept alert for any superpowered enemy who might oppose him.

More than once during the flight, the Green Goblin spotted signs of the battle between the Avengers and the alien invaders, and he wasn't particularly surprised when he saw more than one building being rebuilt. Even as he passed by the skyscrapers which were a classic symbol of New York's majesty and scale which had been smashed to pieces during the battle, he saw armies of workmen struggling to repair them. Large amounts of the city had been devastated, and so many people had left the city in the aftermath, making the demand for space plummet. It wasn't until much later the demand had grown, and now the builders were struggling to repair them.

Like the people in the buildings that were still standing, the builders noticed him fly past, but the Green Goblin paid them no heed; he had bigger fish to fry, and he had Board members to spit roast for their treachery.

As he made his final approach to Time's Square where the festival was being held, the glider slowed down a little while its rider took the moment to savour it. Today was the next stage of his journey that would take the Green Goblin to new heights, after this he would reveal the very-real urban legend which had sprung up recently existed. Today he would begin his quest for power, starting with the death of his former board members.

With that in mind, the Green Goblin flew into Time's Square. It didn't take long for him to be noticed, and as he increased the speed of his glider, the Goblin couldn't resist it, he performed a few acrobatic moves while he was still attached to the glider. He flew upside down, and even waved at the crowd a few times, taking in their cheers and their clapping which was registered by the audio circuits of his mask.

The crowd cheered loudly again, but the Green Goblin had finally had enough of entertaining the crowd, it was time to get down to business. Gracefully, the Green Goblin flew underneath one of the giant balloons and flew around the square. He wasn't surprised when he swooped close to the balcony the Board members were standing on and he caught sight of the shocked recognition written on their faces when he scanned then with his optical lenses.

They recognised the suit and the glider, but then again he had known they would; despite being treacherous the board members were far from stupid. The Green Goblin had also noticed Harry's presence on the balcony, but he paid his son no heed, though he knew he would need to injure the boy but that was collateral damage in his mind as he directed his glider to fire small missiles straight at the balcony's supports, and caused it to tilt in the blast, demolishing one of the stone rails and sending chunks of masonry plummeting down to the ground where they smashed a car parked beneath.

The sudden destruction they were seeing caused the crowds below to stop cheering and clapping at the strange new exhibit, and they began screaming, but the Green Goblin paid them no mind as he fired another pair of missiles to further cause damage to the balcony. It worked. The missiles cracked the floor of the balcony, blasting more of the masonry away and sent chunks plummeting down to the ground. The Goblin directed the glider into opening fire and the explosions steadily demolished the wall of the building, bringing down chunks of masonry. The terrified board members were further backed into a corner, but the Green Goblin continued firing at the balcony and the building that supported it, making what was left of the structure even more unstable. The Green Goblin didn't see Harry anywhere near them at first, but then he noticed his slumped form on the ground, and when he zoomed in with his optical lenses he caught sight of some blood in Harry's hair. He concluded a piece of masonry had hit the boy in the head and he collapsed, and he quickly pushed that aside.

His prey was still here.

The board members had been driven into a corner of the balcony, which was now in pieces with sections cracked so severely the Green Goblin knew that if anyone tried to step on one of those fragile sections then they would plummet to their deaths.

And the board members knew it. None of them was making any attempt to escape. They had been driven into a wall, they were stuck in a corner, and the rest of their balcony was falling apart.

The Green Goblin laughed even more, enjoying the moment immensely, but as he moved his glider closer to the terrified board members who realised there was no way they could get out of this, he caught sight of the balloons that were still up. And he stopped, and he glanced between the board members and the balloons. He became aware of the screaming from the crowd below. The Green Goblin looked at the board members again, who was trembling with fear as they waited for the inevitable, but the Green Goblin decided to leave them alone for now.

He had forgotten the opportunity the festival had given him. Down below there were hundreds of New Yorkers and tourists who were a much more delicious target than a bunch of treacherous business people who had as much loyalty as a flea that jumped ship off of a cat or a dog.

The Green Goblin turned his eye back to the board members, who were clearly curious about why he'd stopped. When the Goblin noticed one or two of the more arrogant members of his board start to appear braver, he instantly killed that bravado.

"Don't go anywhere!" he commanded them, thankful that his voice was more of a deeper tone than his regular voice. "I'm not done with you, yet!"

With a laugh, the Green Goblin's glider flew upwards and turned sharply away from the remains of the balcony his board were crouched down upon, and they watched him fly away.

But first, he had to give his audience a scare.

The grin on the mask was permanent, but the grin he smiled underneath the grille was not but was by no means a small grin as he narrowed his eyes sadistically as he calmly mentally commanded the weapon systems of his glider to activate. As he swooped lower to get a better shot, the Goblin opened fire on the crowd by firing a pair of small missiles at a car and the storefront of a shop. The cheers had definitely turned to screams of panic as the Green Goblin opened fire with the machine guns built into the glider, and he mowed down many of the crowd, laughing sadistically the whole time before his optical lenses picked up on a subtle movement to the right. A couple of police officers with their guns drawn and levelled at him were running towards him.

"FREEZE!" one of the cops yelled at him, holding out his gun in front of him. "DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

The Green Goblin cackled as he directed his glider's machine guns at the cops, who realised their mistake too late but they didn't have long to live as the glider's machine guns cut them to pieces. The dead cops were not the only ones the Green Goblin opened fire on, and the air became a mix of people screaming, machine guns firing with bullets tearing through flesh and bone, chips of concrete and brick being smacked by the projectiles, and the glass windows of the storefronts shattering into crumbs on the ground.

But all of those sounds were drowned out by the high insane sound of the Green Goblin's laughter.

It didn't take long for the Green Goblin to remember the board once he had finished devastating Time's Square, and the glider lifted upwards and he turned back and climbed higher to hover above the remains of the balcony. Underneath his mask, Norman Osborn wondered just how he was going to do this, especially since with his weapons, his glider, and his superhuman strength which was far greater than anything a normal human was capable of making the possibilities virtually limitless.

The board members were paralysed with terror, and the Green Goblin let out another cackle at the sight of seeing them all trapped, helpless and terrified, and he accelerated towards the board who screamed in terror, but he paid their cries no heed as he grabbed two of them in his hands lifting them up with his superhuman strength, and squeezed gently while he directed his glider to climb higher.

The two board members in his grip screamed as they were suddenly taken higher into their air while they were slowly choked in the Green Goblin's vice-like grip. Reflexively they tried to struggle as their survival instincts kicked in madly. The Green Goblin snickered underneath his mask at their incredible stupidity. They had nowhere to escape to, they were so high up if he let go of them they would not be able to survive the drop. Well, it wouldn't matter with what he planned to do to them anyway.

Still, it was fun holding them like this, making them struggle and squirm. It was the least they deserved after their treacherous actions over the years.

"Norman! Stop this!"

"Osborn, listen - we can cut a deal-!" the second member pleaded desperately. He reminded the Goblin of pigs squealing while they were about to be slaughtered.

"Norman Osborn's gone, you fools!" he declared, confirming that he was Norman Osborn, though he was curious about how they'd deduced his true identity so quickly. _No matter. It's time to end this,_ he decided. "You're dealing with the Green Goblin now!"

He opened his left hand and pushed away, and the -unfortunate- man fell screaming to his death, the screams echoing and mingling with the engine sound of the glider.

The second board member looked slack-jawed as he watched his associate plummet down to his death and he turned back to face the Goblin, but this time Osborn didn't give him the chance to make pointless pleas; he grabbed the mans' head with both hands and started to crush the man's skull slowly to savour the moment, making him scream in pain when the grip slowly crushed his skull.

"You… you should never have betrayed me!" the Goblin shrieked over the man's screams before finally crushing the brain. Ignoring the gore, the Green Goblin threw the cadaver to the ground where it followed the original board member on a long trip to the bottom. His bloodlust far from sated, the Green Goblin swooped back down towards the balcony where the remaining members were.

As the glider flew closer to the balcony, he took from his weapons belt one of his "smart" razor-edged bat clusters he kept there. The Green Goblin had programmed the two razor-edged "smart" bat clusters with the pattern recognition of the faces of all of his board, but he changed his mind. He decided to just select two members of the board, and when he was finished he activated the device and threw it in the air. It 'burst' and sent seven small bats propelled by four small helicopter engines that allowed them to move and fly with extraordinary speed.

The board members screamed as the metallic bats swooped into them, the Goblin could hear them and he witnessed as the cluster tore through the board members he'd selected, and he watched as the bats tore into them with their razor-edged blades like a miniaturised chainsaw. But he had one last plan in mind to end the Oscorp board once and for all.

From his weapons' belt, he produced a long, oddly shaped gun with a bizarrely shaped sniper scope on it. The Goblin pressed a couple of studs on the weapon and flew towards the balcony. Underneath his mask, Norman grinned sadistically as he took in the two bloodied forms on the balcony lying in heaps in rapidly drying puddles of blood while the bats were still cutting into their flesh. Norman knew the bats would not stop until he reprogrammed them, but he decided not too for the time being.

He flew his glider towards the rail and he stood up to his full height while he set the brake mechanism. "You brought this on yourselves," he said to them in a solemn voice which was so insincere you'd need to be incredibly stupid to not realise it.

"We'll get you for this, Osborn! You've gone too far!" one board member threatened, glaring up at the green-clad horror on their glider while a few others looked on with the same bravado, though a couple of them were still frightened and knew he held all the cards while they had nothing. "You stole our glider-!"

"Your glider?" Osborn cackled for a moment before he settled down. "No, I came up with the glider. I came up with this armour. You were the ones who gave up on it while claiming the technology was yours. And besides, what makes you think you're going to get out? Your mobile phones are switched off - I turned them off before I arrived."

The Green Goblin cackled again when he saw the bravado leak off like helium gently seeping through the holes of a hot air balloon. "You fools! Did you really think I came here and went to all of this trouble today to bring the Green Goblin out into the open like this if I didn't take any precautions? Not that it matters now, of course. You are all going to die," he finished darkly.

"Wh-what are you gonna do?" someone asked.

The Green Goblin cackled once more as he lifted the weapon he was holding; he had no idea why none of the board had noticed it before, but he figured in their terror they had been more focused on his mask than in what he was holding, but he pushed that aside. A few of the board members were gazing at the weapon in confusion and a little bit of terror, but there were a couple of people who had a different reaction. They were looking between Osborn and the gun with horror and fear, and one of them even tried to get up and move away.

"Ah uh!" Osborn snapped, and he threw one of his more conventional cutting bats at the fleeing woman, who gazed back at him and the gun with terror. "Not so fast!"

"What is that thing?"

"Don't you know?" the female board member spat, gazing between the others and the Green Goblin in terror knowing there was no way out for them all. "That's the Slicer Gun. Oscorp invented it ages ago to be used as a weapon of terror. It works by-," she didn't get the chance to say another word because the Goblin, having tired of her voice and her explanation for what the gun did, pulled the trigger, shooting webs of sharpened wire at the board members, propelled by an extremely strong chemical reaction which propelled the webs at the Goblins' victims. Screams of surprise and agony transformed into gurgles before the board were silenced for good.

The only sound that came from the balcony was the Green Goblin's cackling as he flew away leaving death and destruction in his wake.

Not bad, not bad at all.

 _Soon,_ the Goblin thought to himself, _everyone will think what I've done today will be like lighting a firecracker in a street!_

With that in mind, the Green Goblin threw his head back and cackled like a wolf howling to the full moon.

* * *

Peter read the Daily Bugle edition that had been rushed into publication hours later and as he read through it, he had little idea what to think but as he took in the unconscious form of Harry on the couch in their apartment, he had no idea what to make of this whole mess.

The attack of the Green Goblin was all the media could talk about. Every newspaper in the city was raving about it, so many people and businesses in Time's Square had been killed and destroyed by the Green Goblin, who'd struck out at a public festival. With that kind of action, Peter couldn't say he blamed the newspapers.

Harry had been one of the lucky survivors - he'd gotten away with a blow to the head, much like others was described having a few cuts and bruises. Now Harry was sleeping off the pain. Peter had to admit quite a few people had gotten away lucky after being attacked so viciously, but the board members of Oscorp Industries hadn't been so lucky. Peter was glad one or two of the news outlets didn't describe the way they'd been killed, but some of the more hardcore outlets of the media didn't observe the boundaries.

They described how one of the board members had his head crushed to pulp before being thrown to the ground, but the rest of the board members had been torn apart by some kind of wire that reminded Peter of that character from that gory movie Cube who'd been cut into pieces by one of the many booby-traps he'd seen only once, though many of the traps had remained in his mind for a long time afterwards.

The newspaper articles and the 'Breaking news' broadcasts which were being shown every few minutes on the TV and over the radio were going on and on about the Green Goblin's attack.

While he was listening to the police's repeated reassurances to keep calm and that they were going to see the Green Goblin as their top priority (Peter wondered how they were going to be able to do that given just how powerful the goblin's glider was, though there were very few pictures about the flying machine, he guessed that one of the 'superheroes' would be called in to deal with the Goblin soon enough), Peter sat back in the sofa and thought about it.

It was unlikely he would encounter the Green Goblin since it seemed the goblin was going after bigger targets so it was unlikely he'd go after burglars - the Green Goblin had already attacked several targets before going for the Unity Festival, though he was curious about what had possessed the Goblin to slaughter the Oscorp board so brutally after he had just used mundane machine guns and missiles on the crowds below.

Why had the Goblin paid more attention to a bunch of businesspeople and ignored what must have been a more attractive target?

After a few minutes, Peter decided it didn't matter, but while he was content to keep himself to himself he would be ready if he encountered the Goblin by accident since he had no idea what the Goblin wanted.

Peter shrugged a few minutes later to decide he wasn't going to meet the goblin since it was unlikely the Goblin would suddenly go for burglars. Let the police and the superheroes handle it, or maybe even the police somehow got lucky and got a shot through, but since the Green Goblin's glider and suit were armoured it was going to be harder than anyone first thought.

Pushing the Green Goblin out from his mind, Peter instead got up and went to his room and grabbed some homework - he debated grabbing some of the architectural plans he had gotten from the library, but he decided against it since the homework alone would be enough to keep him going for a while, though with Harry fast asleep he certainly had the opportunity to look them over in the first place. He'd managed to get a few more plans for a few other places and they were safely placed in a file in his room far from where Harry could lay his hands on them.

While he worked on his coursework, Peter switched on the TV. As he'd expected the channels were flooded with news of what had happened in Time's Square.

"…. _new eyewitnesses have come forward to describe the Green Goblin's attack on the Unity Festival,"_ a pretty news reporter was saying on the screen but Peter wasn't interested in hearing what she had to say. He flipped through to another channel and he groaned when he saw another news reporter on the scene at Time's Square, only this was one was speaking to a police officer, who was describing the Green Goblin's attack.

" _He was fast. That…thing he was flying on allowed him to zip through the air,"_ the cop said, and he used his hand to emphasise his point, " _and he opened fire on the crowd after showing off for a bit on that…thing, and he tore through other cops! I was in the crowd and I fired a few shots, but I'm not sure where they went since the crowd kept jostling me."_

Peter flipped channels again. The cynical part of his mind questioned whether or not the cop had even opened fire or not, but he doubted it would matter in the long run anyway. When the channel changed it went to another news report, but he quickly checked through the channels to see if there were any documentaries or movies on; he didn't want to listen to another news network's reports on the Green Goblin's attack today and he didn't particularly care about it anyway though he hoped someone did something soon about it.

When he found a _Star Trek_ movie being shown he immediately switched over to it - he might have watched this one a hundred of times in the past, but _The Undiscovered Country_ was still more entertaining than listening to the same story over and over again.

Finishing off his homework, Peter decided to take a chance and he went and picked up some contents from that file and brought it into the living room when he was confident Harry wouldn't disturb him.

As he went over the plans and the maps he had, Peter was not deluding himself - he knew it would take a long time before he was ready to take things up to the next level, and he would need to check out the places he was planning to break into to see what exactly had changed over the decades which wasn't recorded in the plans, but he had no intention of just being an average cat burglar.

Peter got into his stride when he heard Harry groan and he froze and glanced over at Harry's form. Harry was just moving around, moaning but there weren't any signs of him getting up yet. Peter went very still and kept watch on him for a bit, hardly daring to breathe before Harry settled down again. Once he was sure Harry was calm, Peter stood up and padded softly over to him and examined him carefully without touching him before he nodded.

Harry was still asleep. Good.

Going back to his chair, Peter went over the plans but after spending a few minutes of seeing if Harry was alright and if he was going to wake up he was now distracted by thinking about the Osborn home.

 _Just a few more days,_ he thought to himself as he thought about what he could find there, _just a few more days._

The Capshaw burglary and the Anna Watson burglary had been his biggest so far, but the Osborn home was bound to be his biggest. Peter had already gotten the plans of the building, and he was still pouring over them while he looked for a way inside to the Osborn Penthouse. The plans were in the file.

Fortunately, the party wouldn't be on for another week and a bit while Harry went over the details such as keeping his father away from it all, but those were matters Harry could work on by himself, Peter would be casing the Oscorp tower for anything he could find to get inside and reach the penthouse without being detected by the security there. Peter was happy he would have time to study the place while he visited the Oscorp tower before the party actually happened. With all of his college work, Peter hoped to have something he could use.


	18. Chapter 18 Casing the Osborn Penthouse

Disclaimer - I don't own Spider-Man or any of the characters contained within this story.

Please feel free to let me know what you think, I am trying to do something different.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter smiled as he stepped out of the elevator leading up into the Osborn penthouse at the top of the Oscorp tower, hearing the sounds of the party from where he was. Harry and Norman had the benefit of having their own dedicated lift to and fro their penthouse to the ground floor, though there were the expected stops on the various floors which allowed Osborn senior access to the floors of his tower.

His smile disappeared slightly when he caught sight of a visible CCTV camera mounted on the ceiling, but his smile returned when he realised he shouldn't turn up at the party wearing a scowl.

Thankful for his new clothes - he'd bought them thanks to the cash he'd taken from Anna Watson, making him look stylish - Peter walked into the apartment and looked around casually, thankful the loud music and the number of kids his own age were dancing around while spilling some of their drinks though they were a long way from being drunk.

Peter grabbed a soft drink and took a sip, and he only just managed to hide a grimace. The drink was not one of his favourites, but it would suffice for now and it would allow him to merge with the crowd a little better while he went over the place. But just as he was about to look over the penthouse to look over the architecture, Peter was waylaid when Harry approached.

"Great party, don't you think?" Harry asked.

Peter smirked. "Well, I've only just arrived, so I haven't seen everything yet," he shot back cheekily.

Harry laughed. "I like this new side of you, Pete," he commented.

Peter smiled back but said nothing. Thanks to his leopard abilities where he could do virtually anything, the burglaries he had committed and what he was planning to do here in the Osborn penthouse, and his time at college it had certainly helped to make him more confident than he had been during High School. It also helped that he was meeting people who were just like him, but the thing was Peter wanted to try to go out of his way to meet others.

Instead of saying anything to Harry's comment, Peter leant forward and whispered. "Are you sure your dad isn't gonna come in and wreck this?" he asked.

Harry's smile faded. "Thanks for killing the mood, Pete," he said, but Peter gently grabbed his hand to stop him leaving. "I'm not trying to be a bastard, Harry. I just don't want to spend a few minutes here only to be told to get out, and I don't want you in trouble. I've seen how your father treats you and I don't want you hurt tonight."

Harry had listened to every word and it seemed to mollify him. "I managed to get a few minutes of his time and asked him if I could use the penthouse for the party. He's been very busy recently, and with the board members dead he's had to work twice as hard, so we should be left alone so long as we don't make a racket."

Peter lifted a sceptical brow, and Harry got the message. "I swear," he insisted.

Peter nodded, humouring his 'friend' and gave in to his curiosity. "How is your father doing with the board gone?"

"Honestly, I am afraid to ask. My father is in one of those moods where the business is more important, but I doubt he will be looking for a new board. Really Pete, the number of times my dad complained about the board over the years could fill a dozen books with a few more left over," Harry said, looking worried and pensive at the mental state of his father. Peter knew that although Norman Osborn had caused Harry a lot of grief over the years, he did love his father and that he was really worried about the man, and was hoping that the recent events which had seen the board members of Oscorp Industries being murdered in such a gruesome manner didn't see his health jeopardised.

The Green Goblin had been seen a handful of times after the attack on the Unity Festival, frightening everyone stiff but aside from throwing a few of his bombs on the city streets and had even attacked the busiest railway station in New York, a number of shopping malls, and the Daily Bugle newspaper building, the Goblin hadn't actually been seen that often. The police had orders to shoot him on sight. They had apparently worked out from what had happened at the festival after a few of the cops on duty there had been killed, though not in as savage a manner as the board members, the only way to finish the Green Goblin was to kill him.

The police had already issued the statement every cop in the city now had orders to shoot the Green Goblin on sight. Peter could understand their reasons - after the attack in New York not so long ago when the Avengers had torn the city apart with those attackers who even now were not even known to the general public though why was anybody's guess, Peter wasn't going to think too much of it.

Peter had been following the news, so he knew that Norman Osborn's problems had a different dimension than what Harry had described. There was no doubt in Peter's mind, no matter how the media dressed it up - either because Osborn had pulled some strings, or because they didn't know enough though he guessed it was that, given how many of their articles had what looked like guesses about what the loss of the board members had done to Osborn.

More than a few newspapers were now asking some truly uncomfortable questions about the way the Oscorp board members were targeted, and that it seemed a bit coincidental they were murdered so brutally by the Green Goblin just on the verge of a sale that had been rumoured recently, but whether or not it was true Peter had no idea and truthfully he couldn't bring himself to care. Norman Osborn was a businessman so it was all his problem.

While everyone's breath was holding as they wondered what the Green Goblin was going to do next, Peter was just too busy preparing for his next burglary, which was here at the Osborn Penthouse.

After Harry had left him, Peter had some time to himself and he had a look around. To better merge into the background he briefly greeted a few of the other partygoers, smiled and said a few words and always left before they said anything else. One or two of the former 'In-crowd' from Midtown High were nearby, but Peter avoided them without any real effort. He had managed to avoid Flash, Liz, Sally, and Mary Jane ever since college had begun, and he had no interest in them now.

After he was sure he had merged with the crowd, Peter walked over to the buffet tables that had been set up and he picked up a few pieces of chocolate since the rest of the food didn't really appeal much to him and looked around. The Osborn penthouse was built on two levels that had been designed and built shortly after Norman Osborn had bought the tower and had it rebuilt to house the scientific/technical facilities which went hand in hand with the administration section of Osborns' business empire. The heart of Oscorp itself.

But… being back in Oscorp tower brought back some deep memories for Peter since it was the day where his life had changed forever and it was also the day he had begun seeing that what he had felt for Mary Jane was an empty pipe dream after seeing what the girl was really like, and he was curious if the scientists working on the teleportation technology was still working on the alien device, but he decided to put the idea on hold for now. He leaned against a wall after leaving the buffet table and he cast his eyes slowly around the penthouse, taking in the dark, rich wooden walls, the masks on display…Peter examined the small collection on display, and wondered if he could actually make a profit by stealing a small handful of them and deliver them to a museum? After considering the possibility for a second, Peter moved on.

The Osborn penthouse was built on two-stories with the upper floor holding Harry and Norman's rooms, while the lower floor held a living room area. The living room area was a cross between ordinary living space and a small museum dedicated to war among other things; there were a number of ancient warrior masks but who they had once belonged to, Peter had no idea. Also on display were a few old weapons that looked like they had been fashioned by people from an ancient tribe, to old fashioned guns that were mounted on the wall, their deep dark brown wooden butts and barrels glowing from dedicated cleaning.

There were a few doors leading off, and Peter went over to the first door near him to look inside. The door was locked, and Peter left it alone. The next door led into a library full of books, but so far nothing that gave any sign of it holding cash or jewellery. Peter had no real problem stealing the jewellery from Harry's mother, the hard part would be getting rid of it.

Peter decided to push that out of his mind while he focused on the rest of the penthouse just as another crowd of teens came in - he recognised only a handful of them, but he didn't pay them any more attention as he went around the different rooms, committing the layout to memory once he had finished getting an idea of it.

Once he had spent time on the ground floor, Peter moved slowly up to the top floor while he used the few people who were above as cover so no-one became suspicious of him. Somehow Peter wasn't surprised when he tried the doors to a few rooms they were locked, guessing they were rooms that had been locked to keep everyone out so they didn't damage anything inside the rooms. That made sense; just because he had set this whole thing up didn't mean there weren't things that weren't important to Harry, and god only knew what Norman Osborn had in his own room, but Peter doubted very much Osborn senior would _want_ teenagers trashing his room apart.

All in all, Peter took his time examining the penthouse while he mingled with the other kids from college and he did his best to stay as far away from the others as he could, though he had seen some really pretty girls around, laughing and having a good time. Peter often found himself studying them closely, his mind torn with indecision. A part of him, a very large part, wanted to just be a normal teenager with typical desires, but he _still couldn't_ get over what Mary Jane had done to him, abusing him the way she had while she had made Flash jealous.

Peter wasn't stupid he knew not every girl was as nasty and as cold-hearted as Mary Jane had proven herself to be, but he didn't want to date a girl until he was ready.

 _In any case_ , he excused himself, _it's not as if I'm not coming out of my shell._

Thanks to him taking the first steps into attaining higher education, and not spending any time with the people who had made his life tricky at Midtown High, Peter had begun becoming more social but he was still a long way from truly being a different person than the quiet geek from High School.

Peter shoved those thoughts aside when he realised he wasn't getting anywhere thinking about the past, and besides he knew he was here on business - he could easily try to find a girlfriend or someone to be with some other time.

Peter was at the party for two hours. In that time while he mingled with the others, laughed and chatted and even danced a bit to loosen up a little, he studied the Osborn penthouse, relying on the techniques he had picked up from the Sherlock Holmes stories only he planned to put them to more cynical use.

He realised, when he had gone out of the penthouse for some air and also to see if there was another way inside since he had spotted the CCTV camera, that the best way for him to gain entry into the Osborn home was not from the inside itself, but from the rooftop below since there was a doorway visible from below from where Peter was looking.

A smile crossed his face and he had to hold back the urge to jump and dance a jig that his plans were becoming a reality.

* * *

Black clothes making him virtually invisible as he sneaked around the back of the Oscorp tower, Peter wondered if he should feel ashamed for how much he was actually enjoying this.

It wasn't as though he hadn't cased his other victims before and it also wasn't the first time he had visited the tower even before the party, but this was the first time he had chosen a target that was much bigger than anybody else he had encountered - both Anna Watson and that Capshaw woman whom the police were likely still investigating had homes which were easy to access, but Oscorp tower put him in mind of a medieval castle, or a place like Fort Knox; both places that were much larger, and possessed more defences than a conventional house.

He wasn't going to let himself forget the stakes of what he was facing right now, but after spending days going over the architectural plans of the Oscorp tower before Osborn bought it trying to find a weak spot, a way in nobody else could have foreseen, and visiting the place twice - the first time a night before the party to check out the immediate neighbourhood to both get an idea of the local geography so if the Oscorp security detail and the police found him he would have a way out, but he would also see if the plans were right.

And they were.

Peter avoided the main loading bay, knowing that security there would be tight, and he sneaked around the Oscorp tower site until he came across a tall, battered metal fence. Raising his arms to grasp the top of the corrugated metal, Peter swung himself upwards so his feet landed on the top of the fence. Ignoring the way the metal wobbled under his weight though he stabilised himself by grasping the metal with his hand, Peter surveyed the place.

He was overlooking another loading bay, though this one was much smaller than the one he had passed only a few minutes ago. When Oscorp had been founded, Norman had discovered that the old loading bay was much too small to handle the needs of his business, so he'd had the second, much larger one constructed to take its place. The old one was blocked off by a large section of the tower block itself so no-one could simply enlarge it, and in those days Osborn simply probably wanted to save his money. And so the former loading bay had been left behind, long forgotten, but it was a way in, and for a persistent burglar who knew what they were doing, it was a godsend.

Slipping his mobile out of his pocket, Peter slowly scanned the place with the mobile app he'd downloaded ages ago to see if there was any CCTV in the loading bay.

Nothing.

Oscorp must have felt this place was too insignificant to bother going to all the trouble of keeping watch on. Either way, it was fine by him since it meant this really was the weak spot of Oscorp.

Peter jumped down from the fence and pulled out from his pocket his small torch and turned it on, casting the beam of light over the bay, though it was hardly needed since the ambient light pollution from the city towers surrounding the Oscorp tower cast some light everywhere, though everything was in shadows.

Using the torch Peter found what he was looking for, a large loading ramp with a pair of double doors set into the brick wall sealed shut by a rusty padlock. Peter had spotted this before during his earlier check on Oscorp, and although he knew he could easily have ripped it off the door he hadn't. He still wanted to keep his abilities under wraps though he would use them if he needed too, he still remembered the nightmare of a rescue where he'd been called 'mutant freak' and he didn't want to go through that again, never mind attract the attention of people whom he really did not want to be involved with.

No, it was best to remain hidden. Shoving his current thoughts aside, Peter slipped out from the inside pocket of his coat some bolt cutters. He didn't have any qualms about using his leopard strength on the padlock, and he just narrowly caught the lock in his hand before it fell and attracted someone's attention outside; just because this place was a blind spot and no Oscorp employee was nearby, that didn't mean someone couldn't be walking down the street on the other side of the fence, and if they heard anything they felt was suspicious then they would definitely call the police.

Gently putting the padlock on the ground, Peter gently pulled open the door, wincing when he heard the hinges creak after years of disuse and he shoved his torch beam inside. The light showed an old loading bay with a few dust-covered crates that had long since been abandoned. Overall the place smelt of damp and decay, and it made his skin crawl since it made his sensitive sense of small react.

Peter ignored the crates while he took out from his pocket the map he'd brought with him, and he cast his torch a little to the right… Yes! A grin crossed his face as he spotted what it was he was looking for; an old abandoned fire escape door. Peter crossed over to it and tried the door. It was sealed shut. Lifting his leg, Peter kicked the door in with his leopard strength, the force alone smashed the door straight off of its hinges and sent it flying back.

Wincing a little at the sound though he pushed aside his worries someone might have heard, Peter pointed his torch beam up and spotted the fire escape stairs.

It wasn't particularly speedy in and out idea, a staircase that went all the way up to the floor he wanted. But it should suffice.

* * *

The next day, Peter was reading a book and just trying to relax even though he was mentally going over his plans to commit the burglary of Oscorp tower while Harry was out. Peter had deliberately chosen a night where Harry would be out, and he wouldn't have work or lessons at college the next day so he could rest peacefully in the apartment. He had slept in while Harry had gone out, though whether he had gone off to college for his own classes, Peter did not know and he frankly did not give a damn.

It had been a good night, he felt to himself; he had finished his study of the Oscorp tower and he had also prepared the scene for when he would be going to carry out the burglary.

 _However, there is still much for me to do,_ Peter thought to himself.

He would still need to pick a date, preferably one where Harry was out partying. _That shouldn't be a problem,_ Peter observed, musing to himself that his 'friend' seemed to prefer partying and wasting his life away while being certain his family's fortune and influence would keep him afloat rather than admitting to himself it might be better and easier if he was ready for the worst since anything could happen.

The only problem was Norman. What if he was at the apartment when Peter arrived to turn the place over?

In the end, Peter decided it didn't really make much difference, but if Osborn senior was at his penthouse then he would need to be extra careful.

Closing his book though he marked the page, Peter sat back and closed his eyes and go over his plans. He had researched the place; he had found a decent blind spot to getting in and out of Oscorp, he had found a way - not one he was crazy about but it was better than nothing - to the top floors of the tower, he had found a way of getting to the actual penthouse and he had a way in, and he had visited the place so he knew the layout.

 _Not long now,_ he thought to himself, allowing himself to think about the burglary ahead of him.


	19. Chapter 19 A Halloween Surprise

I don't own any of the characters, and I definitely don't own the Spider-Man franchise.

To individuals out there who skim my stories and say they are crap without even bothering to read them properly, well I can't stop you. But I find it actually kind of pathetic you go to all the trouble of opening up accounts, but you don't bother to write anything. People like you are jokes. To everyone else, thanks for all the support.

Enjoy, and I'm sorry about the little rant. I'm just tired of people who don't even bother with making an effort thinking they know it all.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

After vaulting over the fence into the courtyard of the old abandoned loading bay of Oscorp tower, again on a day when Harry was once more at one of those never-ending parties that he loved to frequent as the playboy son of one of the biggest industrialist businessmen in New York, Peter had no problem heading into the Oscorp tower in the dead of night.

Dark clothes making him virtually invisible in the enclosed courtyard while he wore a hoodie and a bandana around his face so if he was caught on camera the cops wouldn't have enough to go on while he carried a backpack on his shoulders, Peter approached the doors and slipped out of his pocket a key and slipped it into the padlock.

After he had cased the tower the first time, Peter had come to worry some other burglar might try to get into Oscorp and discover the same weak point he had found himself, and they would find the backdoor wide open so he had purchased a padlock from a locksmith and he'd fitted it to the door to replace the original. Peter knew it was a rather small physical barrier which wouldn't keep out a professional burglar, but it had made him more confident his little back door was undisturbed which it was since the padlock had neither been cut or tamped with.

Peter cursed as he went up the flights of stairs leading upwards, but with some of his leopard strength and speed and some of the water from his bag, he managed to reach the top of Oscorp tower until he neared the floor he needed to get to without really breaking a sweat. It had only taken Peter about half an hour to race the top of the tower from the back entrance.

When he reached the floor Peter gently opened the door and just as carefully he closed it shut before he raced down a corridor before he reached what he had found the last time he was here; an old and long since abandoned office with a door leading outwards onto the balcony. The door itself was locked for security reasons but it wasn't a problem for Peter who simply wrenched it open and the teenager just stepped out onto the balcony.

Turning around and looking upward after twisting his neck around slightly to the left Peter saw the penthouse looming over him. Peter looked upwards slowly, a slow smile growing over his face and underneath his bandana before it widened into a large grin.

When he had originally come to the Oscorp penthouse he had stepped out onto the balcony and looked down only to see a few balconies on a much lower level than the penthouse the Osborns lived in. According to the research he'd conducted into the Oscorp tower, Norman had simply purchased the building and had the penthouse added onto the top like it was a gothic crown as though Norman was a king knighting his Headquarters, and while it had taken a fair bit of work the rooftop of the original tower had been covered over in places. On the roof new offices just below the penthouse building were constructed while sections of the old roof had been covered over until now they were inaccessible, but there were still remnants of the original roof until it had become a balcony that had a couple of doors installed to allow members of the staff working in the nearly reconstructed offices to look over the city if they wanted though over the years those offices had been slowly abandoned until they had become just another back door for Peter to use for the burglary in the Osborn penthouse.

Peter kept smiling when he saw that the collapsible ladder he'd recently purchased was still where he had left it, propped up against the wall where neither Norman or his family butler could see it and with the light from the penthouse above more than bright enough he didn't really need to use the torch he'd brought with him tonight. Peter went over to the ladder and fully extended it before he propped it up against the wall and started climbing up the rungs to the balcony rail.

He had purchased the ladder a couple of days ago to provide a more stable and solid climbing aid instead of some rope ladder or something like that, and after making sure Harry was not around where he could get suspicious, he had gone round to his family's penthouse and had placed the ladder where he could find it to help him climb to the top of the wall without needing to worry himself about the weight when he carried out the burglary.

Peter could have burgled the penthouse then of course, and he had been tempted at the time, but when he had peeked over the top of the balcony as he reached the top, he had seen Norman Osborn himself speaking to someone on a phone, looking very annoyed.

He couldn't burgle the penthouse then, so he had been forced to wait, leaving the ladder behind as he had.

It was a risk, of course - bringing a ladder up to a building you were about to break into and then leaving it behind, but Peter had considered it a risk worth taking, and he also didn't want anyone to be suspicious. And besides with no-one coming up here regularly enough and it with being propped up against the wall in such a way so no one could see the lower rungs of the ladder from the balcony, the risk was worth it.

As far as the world would learn when they heard about the Osborn break-in, an ordinary burglary had taken place with no mutant powers, nothing. He was still determined to keep his abilities a well-kept secret, especially after that mess with that kid and that mother who'd called him a mutant freak which had drummed into his mind why it was important to keep a low profile, which was why he was reliant on tools and ordinary things like ladders when he could just as simply leap upwards and swing himself over the gothic-style penthouse rail in a fraction of the time it was taking for him to physically climb a ladder.

But it couldn't be helped.

Concentrating on reaching the top of the ladder Peter began to slow down as he went higher before he came to the rail, and very slowly he lifted his head through one of the rounded supports holding the rail up so he could take a look through the full-length windows. Peter stayed at the top of the ladder for a good few minutes, his eyes unblinking as he scanned the balcony of the penthouse, but there was no movement that he could see.

But that didn't mean there couldn't be someone inside, and he was reminded of the time when he had broken into the Capshaw woman's home and found her passed out drunk to the world.

In the end, Peter decided to just risk it, and besides when he was inside he would sniff the air inside the penthouse to see if there was anyone there, any fresh scents. If there were, then he would work his way around them while he relied on his other senses.

Peter let himself relax and he climbed higher and swung his legs over the rail and onto the balcony, taking out of his pocket a larger than ordinary marble and placed it gently on top of the stone rail to let him know where the ladder was exactly before he raced across the balcony towards the bay doors. Peter reached out and checked the door, and found to his relief it was unlocked. Taking a deep breath he opened the door and stepped into the penthouse.

Once he was over the threshold of the door he took a deep sniff, and immediately he was assailed with the scent of not just Harry, but someone who smelt similarly to Harry though different, and Peter guessed he was smelling Norman Osborn himself, but there was also the scent of someone else in the air. _Probably Bernhard,_ Peter realised to himself when he remembered the Osborn family's faithful butler. The three different scents alone made Peter stiffen for a moment, and he went very still, his eyes darting from left to right before he moved them to scan the upper storey. No movement. Nothing.

There were no fresh scents, which was a bonus. He had the place to himself, for now.

Peter relaxed slightly and he moved towards the staircase leading to the second floor of the penthouse, and he slowly walked up the steps, his ears and eyes scanning everything around him while he paid attention to any other sounds in the penthouse telling himself there was no harm in not being prepared for the worst.

The first bedroom Peter went to was Norman's. He wasn't surprised when he walked into the room Norman had a bedroom a king would be delighted to have. He found an old vanity table in a corner which looked like it had been well maintained in a long time in remembrance of the former user, though there was nothing but a mirror and a set of small drawers on the top. While he pushed aside the slight sense of guilt he was feeling at the thought of robbing a dead woman who was definitely Harry's mother, Peter opened the drawers and rummaged through them, but there were a few makeup products in them which looked like they had been there for years. There were a few other bits and pieces in there, but Peter ignored them and continued to rummage around the vanity before he found three drawers stuffed full of jewellery.

A slow smirk spread over Peter's face, and he took out the jewellery after casting a quick eye over the collection of rings, necklaces, and earrings. He had become enough of a professional burglar to tell the difference between a fake diamond and real diamond after he'd done some research, and while he had still a lot to learn Peter knew all the jewellery was genuine. Taking from the pocket of his jacket a small black bag and he stuffed it full of the gold and diamonds, keeping in mind his earlier reluctance to take such things because they would be hard for him to get rid of.

But the jewellery collection that Peter was handling from the drawer was of an excellent condition but as he examined the pieces he was unsure if the jewellery was custom made, they probably were given they were gifts from Norman Osborn to his wife. Peter knew if he tried to sell any of it right now, the Osborns would be on his back before he could blink, so he would need to wait a long time before he could find a way of getting rid of the jewellery, and he might have to find someone who could work the jewellery to remake some of the pieces if they were distinctive. Peter sighed under his breath as he packed the last ring in the bag before he shoved it into his backpack. hoping it did not come to that point.

He wished he could find a proper fence, someone with the right connections who'd know the right people who could get rid of jewellery like this, but the only people whom Peter knew who could do the same job might get suspicious.

In the end Peter did what he had found himself normally do in situations like this - he just got on with the job and convinced himself to improvise, while he finished placing the jewellery in the backpack and stood up and walked slowly out of the bedroom once he had done a cursory check of Norman's things to see if there was any leftover cash lying about. There wasn't, so he left the bedroom and then went into Harry's bedroom. The place was as messy as the one in the flat the younger Osborn shared with Peter, but Peter didn't care. He did another cursory search and aside from the few dollar notes, he left the bedroom with nothing. He wasn't worried though - the penthouse was quite large, and there was bound to be more things out there he could steal.

As he walked back down the stairs already feeling a few thousand dollars richer than he had been when he had walked into the penthouse, Peter paused at the bottom of the stairway, looking around the ground floor of the penthouse to see just where he should start now. His eyes caught the sight of the ancient warrior masks, the collections of weapons he had only seen in museums and as recreations in movies and on TV, but he decided not to try though he wondered if one or two of the masks would be a nice thing to add to his bank though how he'd sell it he didn't know.

 _And yet,_ he thought to himself with a smirk underneath his bandana as he walked over to the wall holding the masks, _I like a challenge, and surely these masks must be worth a fortune somehow, and even if I can't find someone willing to pay for them, well I can always have them around as a kind of trophy, a momento of this night…_

Peter reached out and grabbed a few of the masks and placed them gently into his backpack, mentally trying to figure out just how much the artefact was but he eventually gave up - God alone knew how much money Norman Osborn himself had expended on acquiring the masks, keeping in mind he had to be careful; as he picked up some of the masks, he could feel the brittle texture as he lifted them up. In the end, he took only three of them, though he made sure to pack them delicately into the bag, and he prayed to god they did not break or fall apart. He also had to keep in mind he was going to have to get the ladder out here. One of the good things about the ladder was it was collapsible, and it was small enough for him to carry one armed. Peter knew he would need to spend a few minutes organising everything in the backpack so then he could get the ladder in the pack along with everything he'd taken from the burglary.

Once he had the masks packed in the backpack, Peter looked further around the room for anything else he could take that would fit into the pack.

* * *

Not far away in a hidden laboratory that was connected to the Osborn penthouse suite, Norman Osborn was currently working on a new model of goblin glider as the first step to properly distancing himself from Oscorp.

Although sightings of himself as the Green Goblin were sporadic at best, there was enough photographic evidence out there to give certain people a few ideas about where the glider and the battle-suit he wore came from. Just because some of it might be blurred, out of focus did not mean there weren't enough details to tip the right people off.

Norman didn't want anyone to find out about his dual identity as the Green Goblin, which he had come to regard as his true self; where the original Norman Osborn was a man who had been rushed off of his feet though he had been a shrewd businessman and a scientific visionary who had understood, unlike that popinjay Stark, that regardless of whether or not the world had powerful weapons or defences to it or not, the fact remained you would need something new to keep on top, the new Norman Osborn was someone who was willing to go the extra hundred miles.

The performance enhancers he had taken had lit up his brain as though he had been submerged in the dark, unable to leave as he was swamped everyday by the mundanities of life as a businessman and the single parent of a son who refused to make the effort (just because he loved Harry did not mean Norman didn't feel frustration because Harry didn't seem prepared to make anything of his life; that part of Harry which had believed he would never need to do anything with his life had worried Norman both before and after his transformation, but as the Green Goblin now Norman found himself thinking about his son less and less) to make something of himself. When he had come too after being exposed to the enhancers, his entire brain had been literally on fire, new ideas swamping him and a new desire to take vengeance on those who had hounded and frustrated him for years.

He had adopted the Green Goblin identity to simply separate himself from that part of his personality, but he always treasured the Goblin because as the Goblin Norman was able to do things on a scale he had never been able to do before.

But it could all come down easily if someone recognised the battle suit and the glider he was using along with several other pieces of equipment he had stolen from his own company. All it would take was one employee to glance at the photographs and raise the alarm, and then Oscorp Industries would be investigated with extra-fine combs, and there would be nothing Norman could do to stop it.

The loss of the Board only made the whole matter worse. The Board had always been something more troublesome than Norman had needed, and the businessman had quickly grown fed up with them and their shortsighted mindsets. Many in Oscorp knew that, despite the way he portrayed their relationship in public, he had always hated the Board, and truthfully he had never really hidden it from sight; he had gotten along with one or two of the members, but that was it. Getting rid of them had been a delight to arrange and orchestrate. The only downside was there were numerous stories out there in the media circulating around it seemed almost as though the goblin had deliberately targeted them.

So, the loss of the Board members which was only making one or two people out there take note of the fact he had regained a lot of control over his own company, but the danger was many people out there had also noticed just how the Green Goblin had targeted them in a public place, which in hindsight had been a foolish mistake, but one he had believed was worth it since he hadn't wanted to hunt each and every member of the Board down separately and kill them since it would only alert the others, but he had wanted to make everyone aware of his existence.

That was why he was redesigning and building new models of the technology he used as the Green Goblin. It had taken Norman the last couple of weeks alone to redesign the whole glider while he made only slight alterations to his battle-suit; he was planning on adding some kind of cloak to it to give a more supernatural image, like a traditional mythical being instead of him simply wearing a battle-suit which was too distinctive not to be identified by the naked eye.

Norman had no idea if it would really work, but as long as he could quickly change his image then the potential damage from before should be minimised.

Once he had finalised the designs, he had immediately taken his Goblin equipment to his laboratory and workshop in his own home, knowing that although the Oscorp facilities were good, he couldn't risk them, and besides his own laboratory and workshop was full of top the range materials and tools which he knew how to use to get the job done in a short amount of time.

The penthouse mansion Norman lived in was essentially a small compound on top of a larger building with just one massive heart which was the main room and the upper storey where parties and business balls had been hosted in the past during the days where Norman and his tragically long-deceased wife had hosted balls and galas designed to bring in money for good causes, but since his wife had died a long time ago that part of Norman had died with it. The main room of the penthouse led to the private rooms Norman and Harry lived in while small corridors branched off, leading to a study where Norman would be able to concentrate away from the pressures of his work, and there was a large kitchen for Bernhard to work in while the faithful butler lived somewhere else; Norman had hoped the man would stay, but Bernhard had children at the time and he wanted to be near them every day so they could get off to school even though he hadn't wanted to commute from home to work it wasn't far thankfully, so Norman had come to respect that decision. There as a library and a bathroom, and a gymnasium for whenever the Osborns had wanted to relax, complete with a small swimming pool.

There was also an 'attic' where there was a large telescope mounted permanently to the ground reinforced with strong bolts to keep it steady. When Norman had been a child, he had enjoyed astronomy, and he'd used it as a means to relax when he'd been growing up. He had wanted to bring that hobby with him into his adult years, and though he hadn't been up there in a long time, the attic observatory still held an important part of Norman's heart even now he'd become the Green Goblin.

But there was a small part of the penthouse which was deliberately sealed from the rest of the manor right behind the wall of the main room, sealed off with a mixture of reinforced concrete barriers and steel girders for increased strength while it was moderately soundproofed to prevent anyone in the rest of the penthouse from being disturbed from Norman's work inside, there were some parts where the sound bled out but not enough for it to be noticed often, and even if they did notice it they'd probably think it was part of the ambient sounds out in the city.

But the laboratory went down through the room of the main building it had been built on top of, and it went down three floors where there was virtually no limit to how much space it now occupied though some sections of the old tower block had been walled off and left alone since no-one accessed them, and due to the fact the upper floors had been virtually derelict besides one or two because Norman had not wanted anyone to discover the laboratory, he'd deliberately had the windows of those same top floors blocked off as he had with the floor his business office was.

The laboratory was essentially a hollow three-dimensional cube made from reinforced materials with a small section lifting upwards like the cap on a carton of milk, and because it occupied three floors, Osborn had done something remarkable - a little illusion. As a result there were only two main entrances to the laboratory with a third to bring in supplies from the main laboratories separated by the admin block of Oscorp; the first was in the Penthouse while the second was inside Norman's office in the main tower. That way Norman could access his business without needing to go through different corridors, and he could hold onto meetings.

When visitors reached Norman's office at the top of the building, they believed they were just beneath the penthouse. They weren't because it was three floors above, but they could not tell because the windows had been blocked off long ago. At the time it had been because Norman had wanted to isolate home life and work, but the laboratory was a place for him to work in to develop and explore scientific theories and technologies that he wanted to experiment with.

But now the laboratory had become the Green Goblin's base of operations which was ideal since it was naturally cut off from the rest, and because of the soundproofing and the security systems, Norman had managed to keep the lab completely secret from both his son and Bernhard, and now Harry was attending higher education it was easier for Norman to operate from there.

It served him now - the lab had long since been equipped with the best Oscorp Industries was able to provide, and he was currently using the resources he had available to build a brand new glider, which was made even easier since he'd originally had a place on the original design team, and as a result he knew about the impressive flying machine's technology and other innovations.

Norman had only just started working on the engine of the glider when a wall panel covered with security systems immediately began to flash red in order to attract his attention.

Osborn glanced up from his work on the engine in frustration, but when he took in what was on the wall panels he immediately rushed over to them to see what was going on. There were four security panels in the laboratory - one on each floor, linked to the penthouse's security systems and some of those in the main tower block so he would always be aware of what was going on in his domain. Norman needed a few moments of checking the security systems because he managed to make sense of what was going on.

When he did he almost gave into the rage of the Green Goblin, though it was close since he was so completely outraged and astonished by what he was seeing that he almost could not believe it.

Someone had broken into his penthouse.

Angrily Norman's fingers punched the controls, almost destroying them due to the force of his superhuman strength, as his eyes scanned the CCTV that had cameras hidden at different points. This system had come in handy in the past when he'd used the laboratory to get away from family life and the pressures of work, but he had always wondered how the system would handle a burglar. But over the years, the security of Oscorp seemed to have worked in keeping such riffraff out.

Not anymore. Now, somehow, a burglar had gotten into his home.

A burglar. It was almost unthinkable.

How could this be? How could there be a burglar? How had he managed to get in? The rational part of Norman's mind was struggling to understand how it could have happened, but then he decided it didn't matter. As he watched the security footage tracking the burglar's movements, Norman's temper flared to dangerous levels when he saw, from the CCTV covering his own bedroom, the burglar rifling through his wife's long since undisturbed vanity table, removing her jewellery collection and shoving it all into a bag.

 _ **ENOUGH!**_ his mind cried out in guttural fury, and he rushed towards the battle-suit and his working glider.

As he finished donning the suit and readied the glider for immediate lift-off, Norman took a look at his weapons. It took him a moment of fighting with himself, with the dark, furious side of his mind which delighted in raining chaos and destruction on the world to make him see he couldn't take any of the high explosives since it would be hard enough to explain why the Green Goblin had visited his home, whereas the other half of his mind didn't care, too outraged to think clearly, but Norman reined his anger in and focused instead on the other weapons, like the lethal razor-edged bats. They wouldn't be satisfying as much as the pumpkin bombs, but they would still be able to do their job.

* * *

Peter felt he had finished with the burglary since he had taken more than a few valuables and he had found a small amount of cash here and there, and now he was making sure everything in the backpack was secure before he headed over to the doors to leave the way he'd come. But he paused along the way when his sensitive hearing caught something. Peter stopped, frowning underneath the hood of his hoodie as he paid attention, and his puzzlement grew as he heard a thrum like some kind of engine, but it was muffled somehow.

The engine noise transformed from a throbbing hum into a high pitched whine and it now seemed to be coming from outside. Peter immediately broke into a run as all of his leopard instincts were telling him to run for it, but just as he got out of the penthouse and out onto the balcony he stopped when he saw the path towards the railing was blocked off by a figure hovering on the air on top of the slanted platform.

Peter gaped under his bandana as he took in the figure recognising him as the Green Goblin at once, and he scanned the goblin quickly. The most grotesque thing about the goblin which immediately drew the eye was the mask. It looked a little bit more like some kind of helmet to Peter, and it was completely green in colour while the eyes were a golden yellow in colour, but Peter wasn't fooled for a moment when he saw the blankness in them which made them look like the shades of a pair of sunglasses.

The most hideous thing about the Green Goblin was the open mouth which showed off a set of fang-like teeth which were permanently open with a grille set into it. The mouth was open in a kind of grin or a laugh. But when he took in the rest of the Green Goblin's appearance, he was a little surprised when he saw there were few supernatural influences - the green bodysuit the goblin was wearing was essentially a padded green unitard, though Peter guessed it was a lot more advanced than it appeared though the teenager doubted it was made of materials as mundane as lycra or spandex but was actually more sophisticated.

His eyes studied the glider, taking in what details he could see, and he wondered if it used magnetic fields to help it levitate or some kind of mini jet engine because while he could hear the flying machine's engines he wasn't getting anything, any strong whiff that said it was burning some type of fuel, but he knew that the glider was packed full of missiles and god alone what else.

"What do you want?" Peter asked to break the silence between himself and the goblin; he knew that even with his leopard speed, he might not be able to reach the ladder, but he prayed to God the Green Goblin hadn't seen it though he hadn't heard anything that said he had.

"You're going to turn right around and put whatever you took from… Norman Osborn back into the penthouse," the Green Goblin replied, speaking in a guttural, harsh voice that sounded enhanced by the mask though Peter couldn't be sure. Nor could he be sure about why the Goblin had stumbled a bit with Osborn's name, but he wasn't going to care about it right now.

"What's it got to do with you?" Peter asked questioningly, and he spotted the Goblin start slightly, and he smirked underneath his bandana. It looked like the Green Goblin had just assumed he was a conventional burglar and would be frightened of him. Well, it may have been true if Peter hadn't had his leopard abilities, but somehow he doubted a few professional burglars who were more experienced and seasoned than he was would have batted an eyelid at the goblin's clear threats. "Everyone's got to make a living; Norman Osborn is a businessman who makes deals and gets paid for them while building and making new things for all of us, I'm just pinching a few things," he said offhandedly though he was keeping an eye on the Green Goblin and taking note of everything he said.

But as he spoke, Peter could not help but think back about his decision to steal those masks. He had opted to steal them to see if he could sell them, and if he had to keep one then it would make a nice souvenir for tonight, something to remember. Well, he would certainly remember this.

The Green Goblin's stance shifted slightly, and the glider lifted a bit until the flying machine lifted with a thrumming that set Peter's teeth on edge until it was hovering above him. "Turn around and put them back!" the Goblin bit out, the threat clear in the voice even if it was enhanced.

"Why should I?" Peter retorted back to the Goblin, masking surprise at what the thing on the glider told him to do, and he was curious about why the Green Goblin was even bothering to care. "Since when do you care about where burglars like me break into?" he asked, voicing his thoughts. "If you're trying to be a vigilante or a law enforcer, you're cutting it a bit fine after the way you murdered your way through the Unity Festival."

The Goblin's stance shifted again, and it became tenser. "What happened on that day has nothing to do with you. It was long past the time I shout out my presence to the world, but if you're not going to do as I tell you-," the goblin paused as he took something from his back and he held it up in the dim light, revealing an apple-sized red ball with a glowing green light on it, "then I will make you!" He held up the ball which Peter guessed was some kind of hand-grenade, but the teenager guessed it wasn't armed yet.

"Oh, you have done more than announce your presence," Peter argued, his eyes keeping track of the red globe clasped in the grip of the Green Goblin and prepared himself to make a run for it in case the Goblin launched it before an idea sprang to mind, "you killed dozens of people that day. But listen, how about we split the profits both ways? Some of this stuff," he gestured to his backpack, "is worth a fortune. We can split 50/50. What do you think, deal?"

Peter had no idea if this plan to persuade the Green Goblin to back off would work, but somehow he was sure it wouldn't because he had a theory whoever was behind that mask wouldn't be swayed so easily, but as long as he could keep the Goblin talking-

The Green Goblin let out a scornful laugh. "You think I want money? You've just lost your only chance to leave here with your body parts altogether."

Angered by the threat from the Green Goblin especially since he knew the goblin had used similar weapons to kill before, Peter dropped the backpack and he rushed towards the Green Goblin with all of his leopard speed to get enough momentum and he leapt off of the ground with his legs and he punched the astonished Green Goblin with the full-on force of his leopard strength before he jumped back before the Goblin Glider, shaken by the sudden assault, jerked around.

Peter nodded with satisfaction as he landed on the ground of the balcony with his knees bent. Deep down he was annoyed with himself for attacking the Green Goblin in such a manner since it would reveal too many clues about what he could do, but he had needed to distract the Goblin so he could escape.

The Green Goblin, totally caught by surprise by the unexpected attack, was knocked off of his glider by the force of the blow, and he crashed onto the balcony of the penthouse with a thud while up above, the Goblin's glider, having been wrenched from its pilot, flew around the balcony aimlessly for instructions.

After getting back on his feet, watching the goblin as he tried to recover from the unexpected landing, Peter absently guessed the goblin's suit gave him a cybernetic connection of the flying machine, but this wasn't the time. He ran back to the backpack and picked it up off of the ground and he prayed nothing inside had been broken before he ran towards the spot where the ladder had been left behind while he could see from his peripheral vision the Goblin was getting up shakily, clearly dazed by the fall.

Peter blew out a breath as he reached the ladder, wondering about the technology of the Goblin's suit. He now guessed it was some kind of exoskeleton; he knew from different sources the military had been trying to develop the technology in answer to Iron Man's own suit when Tony Stark had refused the US army access to it to see how it all worked, but from the official articles he'd read very few had managed to develop the technology to a high standard, but he had long since guessed much like many conspiracy theorists the US government had the technology but they didn't want to reveal it to anybody.

Whoever had put that suit the Green Goblin wore knew what they were doing.

But this wasn't the time to make guesses about the Green Goblin. Peter had just leapt onto the balcony rail when his leopard hearing detected something, a sound-

"Aaah!" he cried out, clutching his thigh in pain as he felt something slash it, and his sharpened vision caught sight of something metallic, gleaming as it shot through the air, only to return to the Green Goblin. Peter swung his head around and glared through pain-filled tears aimed at the Green Goblin who calmly held out his hand, and something landed in his palm.

"How did you do that?" the goblin hissed as clenched his fist around his weapon which made it hard for Peter to take in the details. "That…leap, how did you do it?"

"Oh, so now you want to ask questions," Peter sneered at the goblin, knowing he had surprised the Goblin by his actions, though he winced in pain underneath the bandana and he struggled to keep the weakness from his opponent who was clearly smarter than he looked, especially after he had made the mistake of hanging around for a bit and not immediately leaving when he had the chance. Peter had no intention of making the same errors in judgement again. He reached into his pocket and he clasped a small cylinder, and he squeezed the top of it before he threw it straight at the Green Goblin where it exploded and covered him in a cloud of black smoke.

Peter didn't bother climbing down the ladder, after bracing himself for the pain he just simply leapt off of the balcony and landed on the former roof of the Oscorp tower. Wincing again in pain and barely managing to hold back the urge to scream in agony as the landing created shockwaves through the muscles of his leg, Peter forced himself to get up and run. He didn't have time to grab the ladder and fold it up - in any case, there wasn't anything that marked where it came from, and he had not left any prints on it - but what he was annoyed about was he didn't have the time to rip off his bandana and use it as a bandage on his leg. The moment he landed on the rooftop, he just raced for it, grabbing the ladder and shoving it into the office and hoped to god the Green Goblin hadn't noticed the fucking thing when he'd flown around - from God knew where and then he raced for it, hoping his speed and strength would keep him going while pushing enough strength into the leg to keep the wound from bleeding.

Above he could hear the scream of rage coming from the Green Goblin and he shoved as much of his leopard strength into his legs to keep him going before he came to a stop in the abandoned office. Peter ripped off the bandana tied around his mouth and he tied it around his thigh as tightly as he could to put pressure on the wound so it wouldn't bleed out, but he had to move quickly when he heard the sound of the goblin's glider as it hovered around.

Wincing in pain, Peter ran as fast as he could, down the corridor and all the way down the stairs of the fire escape. He didn't stop until even when he reached the loading bay, though he poked his head out slowly.

Peter had just had a nightmarish trip all the way down to the loading bay. All the time he had needed to deal with the weight of the backpack though it wasn't much of a problem for his leopard strength, the heat caused by the extortion was trapped underneath the hoodie and the pain in his thigh that was sending little jolts of pain up his leg. And all that time he was frightened the Green Goblin would be there, that he had seen the open door to the office, and he'd followed Peter to the corridor and worked out where he was heading and was waiting for him in the loading bay.

But when he poked his head out, Peter didn't see or hear anyone or anything. Slowly, he walked out into the loading bay, looking around himself in every direction, sniffing the air for any sign another person's presence in the bay.

It seemed to take him ages to reach the fence, but he looked up at the top with a weary grimace. Peter wouldn't have had a problem with it ordinarily, but with the injury in his thigh, the last thing he wanted to do was make things worse than it needed it to be. Still, he knew it made no difference. He slowly reached for the top and heaved himself up to the top painfully and over before he crawled over the top onto the sidewalk.

Wincing in agony, Peter walked away.

* * *

The Green Goblin hovered around the top of the penthouse and the Oscorp tower while he searched fruitlessly for the burglar. The gas which had been thrown into his face from that little cylinder had made it virtually difficult for his optical senses to see since it was so dense, it was like being in a cloud of coal dust that refused to go away. But when the Goblin had left the cloud, he'd found the burglar was gone.

What had started out as a simple case of dealing with a common burglar had shifted into something more interesting for the Green Goblin. How had burglar managed to leap like that? In hindsight, the Goblin wished he could push aside the immediate thought he'd had at the time, that the leap was something only a super agile mutant could accomplish, but it could have easily been just an agile ordinary person. But how did the burglar get in, and where did he get too?

He had searched everywhere but he hadn't been able to find him aside from the open office doorway leading out into the rooftop but the Green Goblin had quickly given up the search though he'd found the ladder the burglar had used to reach the penthouse, after that all the trails had dried up solid. The Green Goblin had searched the floor, and he'd found nothing, except for those spots of blood that he was able to pick up with the optical sensors.

Spots of blood!

The Goblin stiffened, and he mentally commanded the glider to return to the penthouse laboratory. He didn't need to get hold of a sample of blood from the balcony or from the corridor. His already had the razor-edged throwing bat, and it had more than enough blood on it for the purpose. A sinister grin spread across Norman Osborn's face, virtually identical to the fearsome grin of the Green Goblin's face mask.


	20. Chapter 20 Only a matter of time

I don't own Spider-Man. I only own this story.

Feel free to leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter flinched as he finished applying the bandage to his thigh; the wound caused by the razor-edged weapon the Green Goblin had thrown at him hadn't been very deep, it just looked and felt worse than it actually was, so it was fairly easy for Peter to clean and dress after he'd examined the injury to make sure it didn't require stitches or anything too extreme.

As he finished up, Peter's mind flashed back to what had happened after he had made his escape from the Oscorp tower. The Green Goblin had not chased after him down the backdoor he'd found, so the journey back to the apartment he shared with Harry had been relatively peaceful. He only wished he had felt mentally well when he had left.

But after he had gotten over the fence, Peter had still been shaken by the encounter with the Goblin. He had been fairly jumpy; jumping in surprise whenever a car's horn went off close by, swinging around in shock whenever he heard someones' loud voice, or even a laugh, reacting to the smallest possible noise; hell, he'd almost punched someone with a baby when the child cried. But he had contained the urge, but only just. But the one sound he was really listening for where the tell-tale sounds made by the glider the Green Goblin used.

The good thing was he had been in the midst of raising his fist when he'd swung around to find out who his target was before he'd regained his self-control.

On the way back to the apartment, Peter had tried very hard to think about what had happened. He still could not understand how everything had gone so wrong when the burglary had begun so well.

Where had the Green Goblin come from? Why was he so interested in protecting the Osborn penthouse to the point where he would threaten any burglar who happened to call? What was he, some kind of violent security guard? That made little sense, and then Peter remembered how the Green Goblin had targeted the Oscorp Board when there were probably so many nicer and more tempting targets for him, and the industrialist now had total control over his company; were the two that well connected; Osborn supplies someone with weapons and a high-tech glider, in return he becomes a willing assassin and bodyguard?

Peter winced as he tightened the bandage slightly to test that it was good enough, and then he remembered the rest of the journey back to the apartment.

As he'd walked back to the apartment Peter became more and more convinced as his mind tried to work out what had happened and what was going on that the Green Goblin and Norman Osborn were linked, and he arrived at the conclusion after applying some logic to it.

More than once Peter had needed to re-tie the temporary bandage around his thigh to maintain pressure on the injury so it wouldn't bleed out as much. But he'd been left with a slight limp which was noticeable, so he was extremely happy when he had returned to the apartment. When he had arrived at the apartment he had been afraid that Harry was back, and he was, but fortunately, the Osborn heir had been drunk, and so Peter had seen no reason why he couldn't take advantage of the opportunity. He had grabbed the first aid kit that Norman Osborn had thoughtfully provided, and he had immediately gotten to work though he'd needed to grab his laptop and quickly found a couple of pages and a youtube video to make sure he was tying the bandage correctly; first aid was easy enough in theory, but Peter would be lying if he claimed to someone that he was an expert. He wasn't. But finding a few hints and tips online wasn't difficult.

Once he was finished Peter slowly and carefully placed both of his bare feet on the floor of the bathroom and he took a few experimental steps around the room to make sure the bandage had been properly secured. As he walked around, he noticed that he was still walking with a slight limp to his steps, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Peter smiled down happily at his bandaged thigh, feeling a sense of achievement while he mentally added a note to learn all he could about first aid to his already impressive collection of things he needed to learn, and then he looked around the bathroom and mentally sighed. He had left quite a bit of blood to the place, and some droplets had fallen onto the towel Peter had used to sit on the side of the bath to act as a cushion while he tied the bandage. The towel was now dyed red with his blood, and he knew he would need to wash it out. He rubbed his chin while he looked around, mentally sorting through the tasks he would need to complete in order to make sure Harry didn't get suspicious.

Norman Osborn had hired a cleaning company to take care of the apartment regardless of how clean Peter was personally; that the friend his son was living with while he attended college was irrelevant to the elder Osborn, he was looking at the bigger picture, and the bigger picture was saying to him that Harry wouldn't know how to look after himself, and as much as Peter wished the thought didn't enter his mind, he could see where the elder Osborn was coming from.

Harry wasn't the cleanest person on the planet in a house care sense, though while he could do the basics like putting things away and performing a basic washing up after a meal, he didn't know how to use a washing machine. But he didn't care. He knew his rich dad would make sure he and his friend were taken care of.

Peter had no intention of letting the cleaning company Osborn senior had hired to keep the apartment spick and span. He didn't know if they bothered reporting to Norman what Harry did in the apartment or not, but if his concerns and suspicions about the Green Goblin's connection to Osborn were correct then the last thing he wanted to do was to give Osborn any clues. Sure, teenagers received injuries all the time, and while Peter wondered if he was becoming overly too paranoid, he did not want to take any risks.

Heading into the kitchen, Peter looked in the cupboards for any cleaning materials that he could use to sort out the mess. He found a few things; some clothes, some spray, but nothing strong enough to really give the bathroom the clean it needed. There was nothing else for it, he decided to himself, he would have to go out and find a late night store and buy some bits and pieces to clean the place.

Peter grabbed his coat and changed his trousers, deciding that he should have to find some way of dealing with the trousers at some point since the thigh part was stained with blood like the towel, but before he left the apartment he checked to make sure Harry was still passed out. He only needed to peep in through the door, though the whiff of booze made him recoil slightly and the sound of snoring told him Harry was certainly still asleep. But as Peter studied his friend through the gap in the door, he wondered if partying and returning home drunk only to suffer from a bad hangover nearly every morning because of his bad habits would be what Harry did in the future much like the Capshaw woman who was passed out from excessive drinking when Peter had broken into her home, or would he grow up and become more responsible?

In the end, he just shrugged his shoulders; he had done all he could for Harry since he'd known the other guy, helped him with his homework, his coursework, and even now the guy was coming to him asking for help on his work in subjects Peter honestly was not interested in. More than once Peter had told Harry that he could only help him so far. One of the joys Peter had with college was that he could choose what courses he wanted much like Harry or Flash could, and truthfully Peter just wanted to stick to what he had rather than pick up the pieces left behind by others.

Harry had resented that and Peter could definitely see the signs that the guy who was supposed to be his 'best friend' was beginning to regret having him around the apartment in the first place, but Peter hoped it didn't come to that or anything drastic.

Without a word, Peter left the apartment after checking that he had enough cash to afford what he needed.

* * *

In his laboratory across the city in the Green Goblin's laboratory, the Goblin had taken off his mask and was currently examining the blood samples he had taken from the burglar. There was something not quite right with that burglar, the Green Goblin had decided. While the acrobatics were fast, the strength behind the punch the burglar had delivered had surprised him, and as soon as he'd discovered the blood, he had immediately gathered up what he could and had taken them to his laboratory.

When he had thrown the razor-edged throwing weapon at the burglar, the Green Goblin had hoped to capture the burglar or injure him in such a way that he couldn't escape, but he had been amazed by the burglars' strength since it had allowed him to escape. Once he had seen the blood spots on the ground he had stopped because he wanted, no, needed to know more about that burglar. The Green Goblin did not like surprises, and he could see that during the fight the burglar had surprised him with just how agile and fast he was, but the strength had really surprised him.

As he had begun the analysis into the burglar's blood, the Green Goblin had begun to wonder, and he cursed his normal self's rationality if the burglar was just a super agile mutant with enormous strength.

Such mutants did exist. He knew that, and he knew that although they were feared they were of great interest to the military. That was one of the reasons why they were so obsessed with developing superhuman soldiers. They wanted an army that could match mutants as well as enemies who possessed technology similar to Iron Man's suit.

Norman's research projects into genetic enhancement were as numerous as the ones to develop cybernetic bodysuits, but he had examined enough results to feel confident that he could tell the difference between true mutant and artificial mutant, thanks to the blood samples gathered by the military after battles with some of the more extreme mutants like Magneto.

It did not take long before the computer was finished with the analysis. The Green Goblin's eyes scanned the information on the screen.

As he thought the burglar was more than he had appeared, he was the result of genetic engineering. When he had discovered that, Norman had been surprised, and for a second he had wondered if his senses had played a trick on him even though he had _known_ something was up with that burglar. Now he was vindicated. He was not a true mutant, a human being who had been born with the mutant gene. He was just an ordinary person who had become more than ordinary. The Green Goblin wondered how it had happened, he knew that several of his competitors were asking for grants and permission from the US military to experiment on human embryos in order to combine the best traits to develop an army of super soldiers. That was genetic engineering at its simplest; you took the embryos, hacked their genes, introduced what you wanted to introduce, and then grow them. Once you had them mature, the new traits would be evident on the same day.

But the military wanted its existing soldiers to be enhanced now, and thanks to alien technology that was possible.

Suddenly the Green Goblin frowned as he examined the blood. There was something familiar about the way the gene code was spliced… It took the Green Goblin a few minutes of recall before he remembered where and when he had seen it, and he let out a cry mixed with outrage and fury.

He had seen the gene code spliced this way when the genetic experiments being undertaken by the Teleportation experiments were finished in order to see how far the scientists in that project were improving their techniques. The Green Goblin could remember how the techniques had been crude at first, though that was actually a very generous description of just how botched the entire thing was.

The first experiments with the teleportation machine had been beyond a failure. They had experimented on plant life at first since Osborn wanted it to be done on simpler organisms to learn the limits of the teleportation technology and how to get their techniques just right as they researched the alien technology and learnt how to control it properly.

To say the first experiments had been bad was an understatement. The DNA of a combined rose bush and a simple sunflower had been reduced to microscopic shreds, reducing what had once been two healthy plants to a pile of disintegrating plant matter that made telling the difference between the petals of a rose or a sunflower impossible. That was just for starters.

But after each experiment, Norman had familiarised himself with what teleportation-spliced DNA looked like. There was no doubt about it in his mind, this burglar who had broken into the penthouse had had his DNA spliced with the teleport machine in Oscorp unless of course, he had it done somewhere else.

The Green Goblin knew the military well enough to know after all of his years of doing business with them they would not have given their finds to just him to sort out, not with all of the other scientists working for them. Still, to be on the safe side he would check it out while at the same time he would devise a means of finding the burglar so then he could kill him. The Green Goblin had known on a rational level there were people out there who were stronger and faster than he was, and he felt he had just found one.

He just could not live.

With that in mind, the Green Goblin stood up and walked over to another computer station before he punched in commands on the computer to access the security footage from the teleportation lab which went back the last seven months. At first, he had hesitated on the timing. The burglar could only recently have been spliced, but the Goblin was not too sure, so he had picked a fairly straightforward number and a time factor, and programmed them into the computer so he could review the footage.

A part of him knew that it would take hours to go through all of the footage, but the Green Goblin didn't see any problem; even if he had his other work to accomplish in his civilian identity, he could still find the time to squeeze in a few hours to go through the footage.

Once he had the first few hours ready for viewing, the Green Goblin sat back in his seat and began to watch.

* * *

A cool breeze was circulating through the bathroom which took away the stench of cleaning agents as Peter slowly and carefully cleaned every square inch of the bathroom to remove what blood specks that he could see. He was only finished when he was standing in the open doorway of the bathroom, looking down at his work with satisfaction. The floor where some of the blood had splattered on it was now wet but spotless.

He had decided to just get the trousers and the towel repaired and cleaned when he could find the time, and then he would find someone who could repair the hole in the trousers made by the Green Goblins' weapon so it would be as good as new.

Feeling lightheaded due to being very tired, Peter turned off the light and closed the bathroom door. The window was still open, but that wasn't a problem since the bathroom floor would be dry by the time dawn came.

As he climbed into bed thankfully, Peter only realised he had not brushed his teeth when his head hit the pillow, but he wasn't going to get back up and wash his mouth. He was so tired that he doubted that unless he had a few hours of sleep, he would never be able to get back up again.

The next morning both Peter and Harry were struggling with getting out of bed. For Harry it was a simple hangover, for Peter it was simple exhaustion after having to put up with an attack and having to stay up long enough to clean up the mess.

Peter did himself a couple of pieces of toast and some cereal with a glass of fruit juice, waiting for Harry to come out so he could eat the small fry-up he'd prepared. Peter himself was starting to regret opting for something so simple and meagre compared to the fatty foods he'd prepared for Harry to help fight off the hangover so it wouldn't drive him mad for the rest of the day. The smell of the cooking meat had nearly driven his leopard self mad, and he had nearly salivated into the pan. In the end, he had cooked for himself a couple of pieces of bacon and two sausages to soothe his stomach while he ate his substantial breakfast while he waited for Harry to finally show himself.

When the younger Osborn finally appeared, his hair an unholy mess and he smelt awful. He crashed down into the chair and studied Peter with bleary eyes.

"My head's throbbing," he complained.

Peter pointed at his breakfast. "You'd better eat up," he advised, not saying anything about his friend's current state since he had only himself to blame and Peter pointing it out would not help, "best hangover cure there is, and you can also drink that water in that glass. You'll feel better in no time."

Harry nodded and he began to tuck in after he had drunk over half of the water in the glass, smacking his lips as the cool liquid went on its journey through his mouth, soothing it and making a nice cool journey down into his stomach. Once he was finished, Peter took the glass and went to get more for Harry to drink while the other guy ate his breakfast.

Harry looked up. "There was a smell in the bathroom when I went in," he mentioned.

Peter cursed himself. When he had gotten up earlier he hadn't bothered to go into the bathroom to make sure there was no sign of his cleanup, but he had thought the smell of the disinfectant he had used would have faded by now, but clearly, it was stronger than he had expected. "You puked last night in the bathroom," he lied, "I went out and got my hands on some disinfectant to clear away the mess."

Harry scrunched up his face, and Peter could definitely see he was struggling to recall if he had done that. "I…don't remember that," Harry said slowly as he tried to remember.

But Peter was instantly there with a response to building the lie up. "You were probably very, drunk, Harry," he said softly. "It happens. Don't worry, I took care of it."

Harry blinked and he nodded, unaware Peter was studying him closely to make sure that he wasn't still suspicious. "I was drinking a great deal last night," he said, "sorry, Pete."

Peter smiled, doing his best to hold down the relief he was feeling that Harry had accepted it. He wasn't worried that Harry might be a bit suspicious, especially since there was no way he could prove or disprove the lie. "Don't worry about it," he replied.

* * *

Norman rubbed his eyes to relieve the strain they were suffering. The super-soldier formula he had taken had enhanced every part of his body, but his eyes could only take a certain amount of light on the screen even if they were able to assimilate more information just like his ears could only take certain frequencies, and more than once during this investigation he had needed to turn his eyes away from the screen.

Norman had been in his office all day, informing his secretary to not allow anybody into his office for whatever reason - even she was not allowed, unless of course, she wanted to be dismissed without a reference from him; the young woman had been taken by surprise by his threat since Norman was usually always cordial with her, and when he had seen her face Norman had dialled down his attitude, realising that his Goblin identity was bleeding through, but he had not retracted the threat. He had instead told her that he had a lot of work to do and he wanted to put a dent into it quickly.

Norman had been studying the footage from the teleportation lab security cameras for hours, and he had already reviewed four months + worth of data in the hopes of catching a sight of the intruder.

Nothing, except for the teleportation experiments, and he had already spent hours perusing through the files looking for what he was looking for; while he might be able to process information better than he had before since the formula had boosted his mental skills many times over, it hadn't done anything to slow time down so he would have enough time to attend to other matters. But as he watched the recordings, Norman was still impressed. The scientists had certainly progressed with their work, but there was nothing suspicious in them. The experiments with both plants and animals although both were done separately were being done since they weren't ready for human test subjects yet.

Norman was about to take a break and get something to eat and drink while the footage showed the animal subject was one of the big cats, knowing that by that point his scientists had developed their techniques and expertise to be able to precisely program the teleportation computer into accepting a certain amount of DNA from one subject to the other. But he had had enough. He had been at this for hours and he was getting tired, but then he caught sight of something as he was standing up. At first, he froze, surmising that he was seeing one of his many scientists, but when he took in the individual on the screen he knew it was not one of his employees.

A thin-faced teenager was creeping into the laboratory, and before Normans' astonished eyes he saw the boy step onto the pad and he watched as the teleportation process happened. He watched as the boy stepped off the pad, confused and his eyes widened when he saw the boy leap off towards the ground as the careers teleportation scientists came back.

Norman checked the date of the recording, and he made a quick note before he froze the image and he went into the personal computer so he could check his diary. After a few moments of checking, he sat back. That was the day Harry's old school, Midtown High, had come to visit Oscorp Industries. He had a lead.

He checked the screen again, focusing on the new footage he had of the intruder.

Wait… Norman looked closely at that face. He knew that face, he had seen this kid before. It took Norman a few moments, but then a slow smile spread across his face.

It was Peter Parker. Harry's best friend at Midtown High, a science genius. Norman had guessed Parker was responsible for making sure his son was getting through school because Harry simply lacked the motivation to do it for himself. Even better, he knew the geeky teenager was living with his own son in the apartment Norman had had prepared just for him during his time at Empire State. So getting to him wouldn't be difficult though he would need to find the right moment, come up with a decent plan on what he could do to the boy.

Who would have thought a science geek could be so sneaky? But Norman knew better than to judge a book by its cover, and he replayed the footage again. He saw immediately the differences between the Peter who walked into the lab, went through the teleporter, and left the lab.

A grin spread across his face. He knew he would need to check and compare the DNA spliced into Peter's own genetic code to make sure the burglar's DNA was mixed with leopard DNA, but he knew it would.

He had his burglar, but he had no idea what he was going to do just yet.


	21. Chapter 21 Back to Basics

Disclaimer - I don't own Spider-Man or the characters, I just own this story where I've made a few changes.

Feel free to leave feedback.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

A few days later after the botched burglary at the Osborn penthouse, as he focused on his work while conducting a chemistry experiment while he added down notes in his book, Peter was impressed by how his decision to stop committing burglaries for a few days while he recuperated from the attack had done much to help him recover. He had put all of his planned burglaries on hold so he could focus on his college work and recover from being slashed like that by that Goblin weapon. At the same time, he did his best to concentrate on his legit job although truthfully it did not fill him with joy since it didn't require any improvisation on his part in the same manner as a simple case of studying a house or a neighbourhood in preparation for a burglary.

Thinking of his new job made him grimace a little bit. He had gotten a job as a courier shortly after he had gotten injured by the Goblin - it wasn't his best career move, even if it diversified his work experience, and it paid only a pittance, but there was a reason he had chosen it; the work took him all over the city, and it inspired him to look into parts of New York where he could commit further burglaries. The only problem with it was he needed to be in two places at once, and sometimes he got lost even though he was getting better at it all the time.

Peter had every intention of ditching the job after a short amount of time. But for now, he needed the job in order to fool everyone into thinking he had something legitimate to do outside of college. In any case, he had no intention of being solely dependent on burglary as it would be a great mistake. He had applied for the job a few days before that burglary on the Osborn penthouse, and he had only just been given the clear. While he was annoyed by the timing, Peter was thankful because the job - mundane as it was because of just how easy it was - took his mind off of what happened although he had no doubt when he had first begun he would commit fresh burglaries.

Though he had planned to put it off for a little bit.

For the last few days, he had been keeping his head down while he recovered from the injury.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he had plans to commit a new burglary. Peter was done convalescing. It was time to return to work. He felt he had recovered enough, and as he waited for the last lecture and experiment of the day to be over with, Peter could not help but think about how _willing_ he felt about committing a burglary when the last one had more or less nearly killed him.

Granted, he had to admit the last few days had helped him to recover after the Green Goblin had slashed him and he had regained his confidence while he quietly went about his business.

Everyone in the college did not notice anything - they were too used to Peter Parker, quiet and always with his head in a book. Not so. At first, he had been a little bit concerned by the sudden brutality of the attack, but as he worked Peter couldn't help but look at the clock every few seconds.

Many other students did the same thing on a day by day basis, but his reasoning behind studying the clock was so then he could count down the hours to when he would get back out there, and commit a burglary to truly push that horrific night out of his mind forever.

But as he concentrated on his work while listening to the lecturer who went around the room and interacted with the students to see if they were doing it right, Peter could not help but be a little unnerved.

The last few days of focusing on his real-life as though nothing had happened had made the botched burglary feel like a dream. It had been weird and strange just focusing on his coursework when he had a nasty wound on his thigh after the Goblin weapon had sliced it, but he was ready to go back to burglary.

He wanted, no - he needed to go back. That was what was so unnerving. Peter had to shake himself out of his thoughts when his ears picked up the loud voice of the lecturer. "A little bit more of this chemical, Peter," she pointed out, showing him the chemical she was speaking about.

Peter nodded absently and did as he was told while he kept thinking about why he was so unnerved.

The unnerving thing was how he _craved_ the excitement of the burglary, though he knew that if he had met the Green Goblin on the same night of the Capshaw burglary then he would very likely have given up after the first hurdle. But Peter was not that same insecure kid anymore. He had grown as a person. Burglary had given him confidence that he had never had before. Casing various homes like Anna Watson, who had lived a few streets away from where Mary Jane and his own family lived, had granted him with a sharper awareness than he would have had with his Leopard senses.

 _I'm a burglary junkie,_ Peter realised, and he knew he needed it.

"Hey, Pete," Harry greeted Peter as he walked out of the science classroom after having a great lecture and science lesson even if some of his attention had been directed inward at his self-recovery.

Peter smiled at Harry, inwardly wondering what this was all about although he kept the caution out of his expression. "Hey, Harry," Peter parroted back at his friend, knowing he wouldn't have long to wait before the younger Osborn got to the root of the matter, and also wondered how he could get rid of Harry at the same time.

He was almost disappointed that the other guy had a predictable reason for coming to him today.

"There's a party tonight, wanna come?" Harry asked invitingly, fully expecting Peter to say yes since he had begun coming with him out to party.

Peter cursed inwardly at the invitation since it was tempting for him to just say yes, say "to hell with my job" but he knew he couldn't because he needed to get back into the swing of things. For the last few days, Peter had been going out with Harry to a few parties, mostly because he hoped that being immersed a little bit in normal life would help him recover quickly, and it had.

"Sorry, Harry," he replied after a moment of trying to work out how he was going to turn the other Osborn away on this one and he gave his friend a genuinely apologetic and disappointing gaze, "but a job has come up, and I don't have a clue about how long I will be out."

He was telling the truth. He had been given a job that would take him quite a distance, but he also planned to use the job as a cover for him to commit the robbery he had planned.

He already had the plan worked out. All he needed to do was to carry it out. He knew where the houses were. He knew who lived in them, etc. He was prepared for a nice night of quiet burglary. Hopefully, he would come away with a good few hundred bucks tonight, which would make it all worth it.

Harry's cuss brought him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, fuck," Harry cursed eloquently, looking at him sympathetically. "That sucks."

Peter nodded. "I know," he said truthfully since, although he had come to find the parties enjoyable there were just some things about them he didn't enjoy, he would prefer a party to a long journey across the city, particularly whenever there was heavy traffic. The only consolation that he could see in this one was he would be back committing burglaries.

 _Hopefully, the Green Goblin will have other things to do than attack me,_ he thought to himself.

When he returned to the apartment that he shared with Harry and finished his shift at work, Peter got ready for his next one. He got hold of his courier ID, and he grabbed his backpack and opened it up while he emptied it of his college things and filled it with his burglary tools. He had spent the last few days using some of the money he'd stolen from the Anna Watson burglary he had still not entirely dealt with, although he'd had time to slowly filter the cash into the accounts.

* * *

After he had dropped off his job near Queens he drove his motorcycle around to the neighbourhood that he had targeted for tonight's burglary. Granted, Queens wasn't the most exciting parts of the world, he knew that by experience.

After parking the motorcycle somewhere unobtrusive a couple of streets away, Peter went the rest of the way on foot. When he got to the house Peter crept around the back of the house after making sure the family's car was still not around - they were somewhere south, god alone knew where and they would be gone for a while, using his leopard abilities to remain as silent as he could while he sniffed the air. He knew that the homeowners were gone and had been for a couple of weeks now, which left the home nice and ready for him to burgle.

Queens wasn't the most exciting place for him to commit burglaries, but Peter had chosen the place when he had been given the courier job for tonight over a job somewhere in one of the more richer neighbourhoods like Lincoln Square, West Village, or the Upper East Side, but there was still plenty of time for something like that. But not tonight. Peter had wanted something simpler for tonight's burglary which meant no scaling tall buildings to get into apartment blocks. No jewellery stores.

No. He didn't want anything complicated. He didn't want to scale sheer heights all the way to an apartment. He just wanted to do a quick in and out job. Peter had just opted to go for something simpler than targeting one of the more richer neighbourhoods. Besides, he had a few more jobs for tonight and he needed to be quick unless he wanted to make his employers think he wasn't on top of the game. While he didn't really care about the job he was doing, Peter didn't want anyone trying to find a link between him and the

In any case one of his best burglaries had taken place in Queens, Forest Hills; granted, he hadn't expected or even known Anna Watson was a blackmailer who had kept her cash in a number of jars in her homes, and as the expression went "home is where the heart is" and this part of Queens was just what he wanted.

Small house. Easy to reach. Close to the city. Owners have gone though when they would return he didn't know and he didn't care. A quick sniff to make sure nobody was about. An easy way to the back garden where there were no lights. Perfect. Just the place for him to steal from. After using his crowbar to break open the door and turning on the stop-watch function on his mobile, Peter was inside the house. His nose wrinkled at the stench of the family, but his nose also picked up something new. Something really musky, and unattractive for his sense of smell.

It was the scent of a dog.

 _Great,_ he thought to himself, angry with himself for not properly doing his research into this family, _being attacked by the Green Goblin wasn't bad enough for me, right? Now I don't know for sure if there's a dog here, though if there is and its been here for weeks without its owners it probably won't be thrilled to see me._

Peter stilled, cursing himself; he hadn't known there was a dog in this house, and he sniffed the air, hoping they hadn't left the dog here, but logically he knew if that were the case then the dog would have launched itself at him by now since he had made only a slight bit of noise just getting in. Nothing. There was no fresh scent, but he had already guessed that since only idiotic owners would abandon their dog for a couple of weeks, though it had happened in stories.

In the dim lighting which was augmented by his genetically engineered vision which made the room much easier to look into Peter could see clearly the house was in excellent condition, and after he relaxed he poked his head into the sitting room briefly before he headed upstairs and went to the bedrooms. He poked his head into one of the bedrooms and found himself looking at the bedroom of a teenager. Peter walked on and headed for the main bedroom. He searched through the drawers and was disappointed because there wasn't a great deal of jewellery there - he had made up his mind on jewellery; while he would steal it, he wasn't going to base all of his burglaries on them. After taking what little jewellery he could find though he found a small box in the wardrobe that held a pair of shoes, with a dollar of cash in there. After pocketing the cash, Peter left and went through into the other bedroom.

He threw some of the collection of DVDs into the bag, though he knew he would need to keep the bag mostly clear so he could get back home without anyone being suspicious, while he looked for cash. He found a roll of cents in one of the drawers, a $10 note in another, and a few $20 notes on the desk just left on the desk.

Looking at his mobile, Peter saw he had been in the house seven minutes now. Deciding that it was time to look downstairs, Peter abandoned the second bedroom and headed downstairs to see if there was anything there worth taking. He left the DVDs standing proudly on the shelves though he took a few CDs while he kept mindful of both the time and the weight in his backpack. Peter opened a few drawers and he found a small collection of cents and only a few dollar notes.

Once more he checked the time and saw he was within the time limit he had set for himself, but before he was going to keep looking a sound made his heart freeze in his chest before a pair of headlights seemed to light up the front room like the sun during daybreak. Peter looked out of the window and his eyes widened in horror when they caught the sight of two shadows step out from the car, and he heard the sound of a dog barking its head off. It sounded like a big dog.

 _Shit! I didn't know they would be back tonight,_ Peter thought to himself before he recovered himself when he heard their muffled voices from outside, close to the front door. _Move it! Movie it!_ he thought to himself, breaking into a run and relying on his leopard speed to get out of the house and he was already in the garden by the time the door was even opened. Peter leapt over the side gate before the front door was opened, and he slowly crept around the house until he was in a shadow, and then he ran down the street uncaring if anyone saw him though he tried to stick to the shadows of the houses and the street. As he left the neighbourhood, his enhanced hearing caught the sounds of angry exclamation and cries from the owners as they realised what had just happened, but he was out and away before anyone saw that he had just left.

Fortunately, the motorcycle was still there when he returned, and he quickly shoved the backpack onto his back and got on. While he was amazed that he wasn't shaking from the adrenaline rush because he had deliberately stopped running halfway between the house and his motorcycle, Peter was somehow able to calm himself down.

 _Good thing i broke in tonight,_ he thought to himself before he shoved the key into the ignition… only to almost suffer a panic attack when he overheard the sounds of sirens. He paused and pricked up his ears, and he tensed when he realised they were coming close to where he was. Peter went absolutely still as he listened, keeping his hands away from the ignition key while he waited for the police to go past. He saw the flashing lights of red and blue appear first before the car sped right past him. Peter waited for a couple of minutes, listening closely for when the car was far off before he started the ignition, and he drove out of the alley.

On his way back to the city, Peter received a phone call. He cursed and he stopped the motorcycle not far from a set of traffic lights and he pushed his helmet up to better take the call, and he hopped off the bike while keeping it upright with a single hand while he swiped the screen. It read "COURIER OFFICE."

"Yes?"

"Peter, are you still in Queens?" Bill, one of the office's admin staff who organised the work, asked.

Not seeing any harm in admitting it, Peter said, "Yes. I had a chance to stop over at my aunt and uncle for a few minutes, say hello, but it was only a few minutes away from where I made the drop-off. But I'm my way back. Why?"

"Okay, you'll be let off for this once," Bill said, but Peter shrugged on the other end of the line, uncaring since it was enough to put his bosses off what he had really been doing. "But we need you to do a job. You're in Queens now, so that's great."

Peter checked the time. It was coming dangerously close to 10. "What is it?" he asked, hoping that this would be a job that required only a few minutes of work. He wanted to try to get to the next burglary he was going to commit which was in the city. He'd had it worked out; one would be in Queens, which would be first, and the other was in the city. But he didn't want to be out too long, and he hoped he could get another burglary done without nearly running into the owners again.

"We need you to pick up a package from," Bill read the address, "and take it to the Daily Bugle."

Peter, fortunately, knew the first address. "Yeah, I know where the first place is. I'm not far from it," he said, "I have passed the Bugle once or twice, so I've got the basics of the route."

"Good stuff. Just shove the package into the mailbox. That's what we were told when they made the call. See ya soon, Parker."

"Bye Bill." Peter hung up and swore under his breath. Getting back onto the motorcycle, Peter sped off towards the pick-up point.

* * *

It was quite late by the time he reached the Daily Bugle, but after doing what Bill wanted he travelled to the next burglary site. It was in a neighbourhood not quite different from the one where he had committed his first burglaries. Someone spiritual might say he was going back to the beginning of his career as a burglar, but Peter didn't care.

After finding out no-one was in (he prayed this owner wasn't the same careless idiot that Capshaw woman was, and less of the type of person who had such awful timing they would just arrive out of nowhere like the last lot), Peter went around the back of the house and broke in, paying close attention to the sounds inside. Aside from a steady drip drip drip of water from the sink, Peter heard nothing. He went upstairs first and had a look around before he found an office near the bedroom, but for the moment he ignored the office and proceeded into the bedroom. Unlike last time he was in a house like this, there was no sign of anyone, and there was just a smell of lavender mixed with the smell of fresh flowers. Peter took a look inside the drawers. He found a few pieces of jewellery and pocketed them. He was annoyed that despite his best efforts to not steal jewellery, particularly things like Norman Osborn's wife's effects, he was still forced to take a few things. There were a few gold rings, a bracelet inside, and a few other things but there wasn't an extensive collection in the drawer.

Once he was finished Peter looked around the room for any signs of any cash, but he couldn't find anything barring a few quarters. There was a lot more in the office. It was scattered across the desk, next to a computer. Peter swept the lot into his bag and then he continued the search.

After he was finished with the burglary, Peter left the house and went back after putting a call through to the office that he was heading back to the apartment he shared with Harry.

He had been out all night, so Peter was quite late back. When he arrived he could smell the booze even without his leopard senses, and when he walked in and turned on the light, Peter sighed when he caught sight of Harry's body lying on the ground, snoring loudly. Peter couldn't help but compare the sound to the chainsaw used in the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Peter sighed and he bodily picked up Harry's body gently so as not to startle the other guy and he carried him and put him to bed before he went to bed himself.

After slipping out of his clothes and washing his teeth, Peter couldn't help but feel pleased he had managed to truly get over the Green Goblins attack, he had burgled two homes tonight, and while the first had ended in disaster he had managed to get away okay, and the second home had been completely empty.

Peter smiled as he went to bed. It was good to be back.


	22. Chapter 22 Felicia's Proposal

I don't own Spider-Man or the characters. I'm just having fun with the plot.

I know that I said continuously that there would be NO ROMANCE in this story, but it's going to be a gradual thing in this story and its sequel.

Enjoy, and please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

As he sneaked around the townhouse he had broken into - it never failed to amaze him with just how easy it was to break into a place - and stuffing a bag full of DVDs he was planning on selling after he had screen to make sure they were in good condition before he moved on to the master bedroom, Peter couldn't help but be pleased he had gotten over his brief shock over what had happened to him with the Green Goblin.

As he walked into the master bedroom, Peter checked the drawers. He pocketed the usual jewellery - he was still no further to discovering a good way of getting rid of what he had already, but the more he had, the richer he would be, but in the drawers, he also found a roll of money bound by a hair-band.

Peter took it it and counted the money. He blew out a whistle, "$50."

He put it in his bag before he gave the room another once over before he was satisfied he had finished on this floor before he went to other parts of the townhouse. He had broken in here in broad daylight, on a day that he had some time to himself before he was due back in college, but thanks to the motorcycle he would get back there quickly enough, hopefully, so no-one would be any the wiser. All he'd needed to do was wait until the family was gone, go around the back, break-in and here he was. He had gone from a nighttime burglar to a daytime burglar, but truthfully he didn't really care….

Peter was busily taking all the DVDs and the CDs from the shelves when he heard a sound that made his head shoot up in shock.

Smashing glass.

And it had come from the back of the house.

Finishing up what he was doing Peter shot up to his full height, zipping up the bag as he went.

He could hear voices.

"Nice work, Mark," he heard a deliberately quiet voice chide, "next time why don't you just phone the cops, tell them what we're doing? Save the neighbours the trouble."

"Oh come on, Jim," another voice replied, slightly louder than his friend while he tried to plead with his pal, "we had to get in..!"

 _Oh, brilliant,_ Peter groaned to himself as he realised what was happening. _More burglars to the same house. I've never had to cope with something like this ever so far. How do I handle this? I am going to be out of my depth._

He had known at some point he would be encountering other burglars over time, knowing the city was full of them but so far he had been lucky since it was only a fleeting thought that hadn't hung around long enough for it to register properly in his mind. But time spent dealing with the Green Goblin and going into places without meeting anyone had dulled down any plan he might have had to deal with them. Now Peter was trying to decide what to do next.

Should he fight, or fly? Peter cursed the fact he hadn't properly considered this problem.

"Keep your voice down, you idiot!" another voice, this time a girl's, snapped in a hiss colder than a spurt of liquid nitrogen.

Peter frowned when he heard the voice; it sounded…. more posh, high cultured.

The girl went on, sounding even more annoyed with her male compatriots. "Do you want the neighbours to overhear us, and get us caught? Honestly, Jim; it was great when it was just the two of us, at least we were in and out of a house in a flash. Now we have to wait two minutes to get inside trying to stop this idiot from smashing every window in the place. Anyway, it's done now, we just have to make sure this is the last time. Get out of the way, let me put my hand through the hole you made, and God help you if I accidentally…cut…. myself -ooh!" the girl's voice gasped suddenly in surprise.

"What's wrong?" the second voice asked, his voice sounding concerned.

"This door…. it was already open."

The second guy, this Jim, had no hesitation in deriding the other guy who had smashed the glass. "There, ya see? If you'd let me and Felicia check the doors to see if we could break in-," he started to say, but the girl, Felicia, spoke over him, "No, Jim," she said slowly, her voice showing how surprised she was, "this door was not unlocked. It was forced in. This house is already being burgled unless the burglar isn't already gone."

A thought occurred to Peter. If he played his cards right, escaped this house without these burglars finding him, then he would be free. And these guys would take the fall for what he had done….

Suddenly the sound of something crashing through the door loud enough to wake the dead shook the house, and made Peter snap out of his thoughts while he remained hiding."Mark, no!" he suddenly heard the guy called Jim shout, breaking the silence (Peter was sure he had heard them say something while he had had the epiphany of how to deal with this problem, but he couldn't be sure) while Felicia called out, "You idiot, get back here!"

But it was too late, Mark had already crashed through the house (Peter winced, and wondered just why the other two burglars had let this guy tag along; if he was setting up a burglary gang, the first thing he would do was making sure the others were prepared to spend half an hour in silence; but this guy had all the stealth of a stampede in a China shop and a store of nitroglycerin), and for a moment he was quiet.

"No-one's here!" he shouted back.

Peter closed his eyes, and he heard the sounds of two other people walking into the house. "Whoever broke in is either gone or hiding, what makes you think you can find him?" he heard the girl, Felicia, deride Mark. "Anyway, we had better go."

"We're just gonna go? We haven't got anything yet!"

"We have to," Felicia ground out, speaking like a particularly nasty schoolteacher who was speaking slowly as if she were in a classroom full of incredibly slow, dull-witted students in an attempt to get them to understand, "this house has already been broken into. We don't know how much has been taken already, and if there's anything left for us. We don't know if the burglar was working alone or in a group, like us, and has already gotten away. And thanks to the amount of noise you are making, Mark, we will be lucky to even get upstairs without the fucking cops outside."

"But we had to know if the house was empty," Mark moaned.

"How, by screaming and smashing glass? Jim, why the hell did we get this guy?"

"He was eager, and I thought he would need the chance," Jim replied, sounding resigned because he could see that his idea, which was probably for the best of intentions at the time, and blown up in his face. "I knew he had a loud voice, but he was eager, and besides that, we were breaking into more and more places."

Peter frowned at that news. He had heard recently of a burglary gang who had broken into a few houses and apartments recently, and he wondered if these were that gang, although you could hardly call it a gang when only two were responsible.

"Too bad we couldn't have found someone better," Felicia replied in a snarky voice before she sighed and went quiet for a moment. Peter wondered what was going through her mind. He didn't have a long wait before Felicia came to a decision. "Alright, we're going to look through this house," she said, "but we won't be here long. Mark, stay down here. Jim and I will look. We know what we're looking for, and besides, we'll get it down quicker; it's clear you aren't ready to be a burglar just yet. You're too much of a liability."

"Aw, Felicia-!"

"Stop yelling!" Felicia's voice snapped like a whip, shutting Mark up at once. "You've just proven right now that you are indiscreet. I didn't want you in the gang, but I took you in as a favour and to see if you have what it takes. It's clear you don't. Now stay here."

Peter listened out, paying attention as Felicia and Jim headed off, leaving behind Mark, who was muttering under his breath (Peter didn't bother paying any attention to him and his mutterings, which were clearly loud enough to wake the dead, but his mind was racing before he reached the conclusion he just didn't care what these burglars did. He wasn't worried about Mark, he should be easy to deal with, but Felicia and Jim were both experienced enough).

Peter came to a decision and he walked slowly out of the room he had been inside when he had heard these three come into the house, and he planned to walk slowly out of the house without these three bozos being any the wiser.

"Who are you?" he heard Mark's voice ask, and he turned and spotted Mark instantly. He was tall, only slightly taller than Peter himself was, wearing a pair of grey trousers and white trainers topped off with a red shirt and dark jacket with a hood currently drawn up. It seemed the ape had some sense after all, though Peter was willing to guess it was only because Felicia and Jim had told him to pull it up and he had done so without really knowing why, though his outfit might be a problem since it was quite distinctive.

Mark's pale eyes were wide in shock. Lifting his head, he bellowed, "FELICIA! JIM! GET DOWN HERE, NOW! HE'S HERE!"

Peter folded his arms and waited for the other two burglars to come down the stairs, summoning his energy while he did so. He had hoped to get out of the house without confrontation because any excessive violence, particularly when his leopard-enhanced temper was concerned could cause terrible damage to the house. The less damage there was, the better.

The cops had to be sure only one group of burglars had been here, and he was not going to be blamed for this one. He would rather the finger was pointed at these three.

Felicia and Jim were clattering down the stairs so fast Peter had to wonder if they were mutants themselves, but he quickly decided it didn't matter and to be honest he didn't care. When they saw him, they stopped in surprise.

"We thought you would be gone," Felicia said after a moment's silence.

"I was just preparing to leave," Peter replied, not bothering to disguise his voice; none of the others was even trying to disguise their own voices so he didn't see the point, and contrary to what some of those movies and TV shows depicting heists said, most burglars didn't care about things like that. "Then I heard smashing glass."

Felicia sent a withering look at Mark before she looked back. "She was dressed in rather baggy clothes, probably to disguise her figure and give her freedom of movement which really tight clothes couldn't give, and with her drawn hood and the bandana the girl was wearing much like himself he had problems really seeing her features.

Peter was the same. He had deliberately chosen an outfit that hid most of his physique while he wore something around the lower part of his face - he had considered a full face-mask to cover his face, but with a hood up and the bandana he had decided it was too excessive. Besides, a hood and a simple bandana were easier to take off than a full face mask.

Somehow he had the feeling this Felicia was more of a kindred spirit than the others.

"How long were you in the house?" Felicia asked, her tone telling the others that she would be the one doing the talking, not the other way around. Peter felt his respect for the girl shoot through the roof.

Peter checked his watch. "Nearly twenty minutes," he answered, holding back his dismay with effort. He had hoped to be in and out of the house, and even scout a few more in the immediate block so he would come back here after a brief check before he went back to college to begin his afternoon classes. Instead, this gang had thrown that plan out of whack since he had only wanted to come out here for just one quick check instead of coming around here frequently and attracting unwanted attention along the way.

The young burglar didn't really care what his college professors thought if he turned up late, though he would have to make this quick, because they knew he had a job already that took a lot of time, he didn't want them to get too suspicious of his absences. Peter lowered his wrist and studied Felicia and the others.

"You've done this place, haven't you?" the girl asked, her tone implying she knew he had, but he didn't know if she was trying to make conversation with the limited time they had.

"Yes," Peter replied, not even trying to deny it. "I'm not going to give you anything I've taken from here. If you think you can, well I'll put up one hell of a fight."

The moment he finished his sentence, Peter cringed inwardly. That was one of the biggest problems that he had with socialising with people, he simply wasn't that good at it; oh, he could talk to his aunt, uncle, Harry, and a few others, but his lack of experience didn't make it easier.

Felicia snorted. "Why should I do that?" she asked, her voice slightly amused as if she found the threat nothing more than bravado. "It's your burglary, and there are plenty of other houses in this neighbourhood for us to burgle without any fighting…Or we can work together?"

Peter was surprised by that. When he had started his thefts, he had never once considered the prospect meeting another gang who would be more amiable than he'd expect them to be, never mind would want him to join. "What's in it for me?" he asked, doing his best to sound neutrally interested even if his first thought was to just say no given that he was a loner by nature.

Felicia shrugged. "You get to use our contacts," she replied, "my…. family have more than a few of them, and I inherited them. You also get to choose times where you can be free or not, there are three more of our gang, but they are currently away, either studying or doing their legitimate jobs. We could use your skills and teach you others. And besides that, strength in numbers, right?"

While Peter had listened to this girl speaking, he had been so tempted to just answer no, say he worked on his own. But he didn't. He had to admit this girl had really given him a tempting offer. While he had reservations about working with others, especially if one of the gang started working for the police in return for a good offer to keep out of jail or because they had gotten cold feet, he had to admit to himself the idea of using his own skills was compelling, though what he was really worried about was them discovering his leopard abilities. But the thought of learning new skills was compelling for him because while he felt he was a professional burglar, that did not mean that he could not and should not just stop learning.

Another compelling reason to join was because of the contacts. While he had some ideas of what to do with the majority of the stuff he had - the money itself was in itself child's play to deal with - the jewellery he had stolen was a lot more tricky. Having contacts was compelling, and yet… and yet he was scared of discovery. He knew if it ever came out then it would kill his aunt and uncle.

Peter stood there indecisively for a good couple of minutes. "There's a cafe near Empire State University," he said, at last, giving the name of the cafe, "meet me there in two days time. Look for a guy sitting at a table with a Kick-Ass 2 DVD." After giving Felicia the time of the meeting, Peter left the house as quickly and as silently as he could.

* * *

As she walked into the cafe - she had to admit it was a nice one - Felicia wondered how this meeting would go. Convincing anyone to join a gang of burglars was tricky, unless you were a burglar yourself. Indeed, when she had been asked to join two years ago, she had been practicing and honing her craft to one day take up her father's work, and she had been reluctant. There were so many things that could go wrong with gangs, but when she had joined, she had brought with her the old family contacts, and she had quickly become one of the leading members of the gang.

Felicia wondered just how good this guy was. He had managed to break into that house, he had been quick and methodical before Mark had fucked the whole thing up, but whether he would join or not she did not know.

Felicia sighed as she looked around, her eyes scanning the tables for any hint of a DVD - why on God's Earth did this guy have to use something so mundane as a DVD, she did not know, but she guessed it had to do with the simplicity - and she thought a bit more about the guy. Granted, she didn't know everything about him, but she was hoping another professional burglar found his way into the gang, even if she had sensed his general reluctance to accept her proposal.

Finally, she found a copy of Kiss Ass 2 on a table, held up in the hand of a teenager around her age, maybe a couple of years younger. He wasn't bad on the eyes, maybe a bit plain, but not too bad, with brown hair. In fact, try as she might… she had felt her heart quicken slightly when she had seen him. He was watching her silently.

"Are you Felicia?" he asked, making her blink a little bit at his bluntness.

"Yes," she replied, sitting down, convinced now this was the same man she had seen a couple of days ago; his eyes were a big giveaway, and while his voice when they'd first met had been muffled, it was completely identical. She wasn't surprised he'd used her name, and it made her want nothing more than to castrate Mark for his stupidity, not just for smashing the glass and making enough noise to wake the dead from Manhattan to D.C itself, but for saying her name.

For a moment there was nothing but silence as the duo studied each other.

Peter was studying Felicia closely, admiring her long brunette hair and her heart-shaped face and her dazzling eyes. He had felt his breath catch in his throat the moment he had seen her, but he had to focus.

"Are you going to tell me who you are?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"No. I don't know enough about you yet. I don't know if I can trust you and the rest of the gang yet, despite what you might be offering me," Peter replied, watching Felicia roll her eyes a little bit at the reply.

"Paranoid, aren't you?" she quipped.

Peter shrugged. "Tell me a bit more about the gang," he replied to move the subject along, making it more than clear to her he wasn't going to waste his time yakking about his name or anything about his identity.

Felicia shrugged. "Not much to tell," she replied, replying only after giving an order to the waitress who came over to ask if she wanted anything. "We're not a major gang, and that's something we're trying to keep. There are just six of us. We work with a guy slightly older than us who is a professional burglar. He doesn't want us to be too big, too noisy, we go out and break into places, grab what we can find, and then get out. We commit a few break-ins a couple of times a month, sometimes just the one. The waiting can be frustrating, especially for those who just want to go out every day and every night, but if we do that too often we'd be putting up too many red flags for the cops to look for."

Peter lifted his head and looked up and saw the waitress returning with Felicia's order, a simple chicken salad and a cup of hot sweet tea. "Your orders here," he said, making sure the girl knew to stop speaking.

Felicia accepted the order with a gracious smile. "Thanks," she said to the waitress in thanks before she turned back to face Peter. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Your welcome. Tell me a bit more about the gang," Peter replied.

Felicia shrugged again as she forked a bit of the food into her mouth, spearing a piece of mayo covered lettuce and tomato with a chunk of white chicken meat, "I've pretty much told you."

"I'm still not sure why you wanted to bring me into it," Peter observed as she slowly drank some coffee, studying him closely as if she were trying to work him out.

"You're good at what you do, we could use your help. And besides, I think you'd fit in better than the amateur you saw yesterday," Felicia replied.

Peter wondered if there was more to it than that, but he could tell she was telling the truth. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something more to this than met the eye. He decided to be blunt. "Look, why should I join?"

Felicia was a bit annoyed he was questioning her, but she tried to remember how she had felt herself when she'd been invited. She had been on the cusp of refusing as well. "I didn't want to join," she replied, "but I did. Thanks to being under another," she lowered her voice to whisper, "burglar, I've learnt a lot more than what I expected. It's a great opportunity."

Peter mulled it over for a few moments. "I'm in," he said finally.

He would play along for now, but if the girl and the gang were lying to him, then he would easily deal with them assuming none of them were mutants.

* * *

A/N - The start of a beautiful friendship, no?

Well, I plan for the relationship between Peter and Felicia to be gradual, though I am not sure if there is going to be a 'thing' between them both. Still, got to start somewhere, right?


	23. Chapter 23 The Gang

I own nothing.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter grinned as he helped Jim pack up a number of CDs into a sports bag, the thin plastic cases rattled as they knocked against each other inside the bag before he reached out and grabbed another handful. It would have been far easier if they just took upended the cabinet, but since it was too large there was a chance the lot would go everywhere. The owner of the house had an extensive collection of CDs and even a few old VHS tapes that he was probably keeping as a kind of collection, so in the future when there was some kind of holographic technology, or something sci-fi-esque, some future archaeologist would take one look, and place them in a museum to pour-over.

But for Peter and the gang, the collection represented cash. With the gang's connections, they would be able to filter the collection through backstreet markets and get some cash for their work.

Peter had been with the gang for a week now, and between the day he had said yes to Felicia's offer, it had changed a good deal of his life. In that time his life had been juggled from his usual everyday life of working his legitimate jobs, visiting his aunt and uncle in Forest Hills, going to college, and spending time with the few friends he had made on campus to working and training with the gang. Felicia had known from the moment they had met he was a professional - he had even regaled her with a couple of stories - doctored, of course, because he did not want her to know about the leopard abilities he had - of some of his earlier crimes. To say she and the professional burglar who'd set the gang up were surprised he was behind the Capshaw burglary and the Anna Watson thing had been a shock to their system was an understatement.

The gang's boss, a man who didn't tell Peter his name because he said if they didn't know then they couldn't tell the cops, which made sense to Peter's mind, and he wondered if he should adopt the same tactic. It seemed to work so far. But he wasn't completely there yet at the time despite showing that he did have the knowledge and the experience to make it in their gang. The professional burglar who ran it wanted his burglars to be good no matter what.

Sure, he'd needed to prove himself to the boss who was a professional burglar and was extremely cautious to the point of paranoia about whom he allowed into his gang. He wouldn't even give his own name, no-one really asked about it as far as Peter was aware, so he hadn't pried.

Proving himself was actually fairly easy, much to Peter's relief; he had envisioned one of those stupid dares kids his age and younger used on newcomers, but all he'd needed to do with the gang was to simply go out with them on a burglary while the older burglar watched and observed at the same time while he helped his gang conduct the in a house.

Okay, he had made a few mistakes here and there when he had first gone out with Felicia and the others, but the older burglar wasn't bothered by any of that as long as the cops weren't called, or an alarm or a dog didn't go off blaring or barking. He knew everyone made mistakes and that you could only learn from them if you were given a chance.

And Peter was given a chance.

During the test, Peter had watched as the professional thief went to work. He had scanned everything with his eyes in that house. He had made sure all the electrical appliances were taken out; several of his contacts would see to it they would be tested thoroughly to make sure they worked properly before they would be sold off. He had left behind the homeowner's pictures and computer, deciding they needed to keep it simple at all costs. Peter had watched as he had gone through the bathroom cabinets and one of the drawers where they were stuffed full of medical bottles and tablet boxes, and he'd stashed them in his own bag.

He was working with three burglars, two of whom were professional already though the third was a bit of a moron though he was quick on his feet, and he made up for his eagerness with focus.

After he had done the tests and shown that he could be trusted, the older burglar had put him with Felicia and Jim and Mark, and they had instantly become a nice little unit. Peter had never really pictured himself as a team player, and more than once he had done things on his own either without telling Felicia or Jim, but they weren't that worried though it did annoy them a little bit. For instance, they had broken into a jewellery shop and he had broken into a few cases that Felicia had said they were going to leave until last - they had an entire wall selection to do, and while the slightly older girl was pissed, she let him off the hook.

It was so strange. A month ago, Peter had only been a house burglar. He had learnt how to use his brain and his imagination to find ways of getting into a property and finding out where to look for what he needed to steal. It hadn't been difficult. And yet… Peter had been aware the whole time it would take time for him to learn how to get into places that were better protected, but with the gang's help in just a short week, he had gotten bigger. Thanks to Felicia, Jimbo, and the older burglar's help, Peter had learnt what to look for when he had his eyes set on breaking into a jewellery shop. He had learnt where to look for the security systems, both obvious and not. He had also learnt how to break into places which had a lot more security than what he was used to because they had something more precious than a pile of DVDs waiting in the wings.

To his embarrassment, he had found that there were techniques for breaking into homes that were not placed on the net for fear of thieves in the making finding them, and using them. He had quickly set out to study and to master those techniques for later, but he had yet to go out on his own and make use of them. He had been with the gang for a week and there was still a lot for him to learn, but the main reason he hadn't yet gone out to commit anything solo was that he needed time to properly get used to the changes in his life.

One of the biggest reasons for him joining the gang was because he had a lot of stuff that he genuinely had no idea how to get rid of, and he had continued to steal things like jewellery which was not easy to get rid of simply because he didn't know who he could get in touch with to move it.

He had kept the jewellery because he had hoped to find an auction house someplace, and hope for the best. The professional helped him there as well. He had been committing thefts for years, and so he had done all the work Peter was still stumbling over, and he and Felicia had worked with Peter to work with the contacts they already had, while at the same time helping him to find his own.

Felicia and many of the other older members of the gang made use of the professional burglar's contacts, but they had their own whenever they committed thefts of their own.

While he and Jim finished with the collection they were working on, Peter cast his torchlight around and he found a number of books. He had learnt that some burglars weren't particularly choosy about what they took so long as they were sure it would lead to a profit. He grabbed an armful of paperbacks because they were fairly lightweight while he thought about the gang he had joined.

Felicia had said there were six in the gang, but she had in fact been speaking about six people working for an older burglar and she hadn't counted him, and with Peter and him that made eight in total. He had already met Jim and Mark on that burglary where Mark had nearly fucked the whole thing up by smashing the glass, and by shouting his head off.

At the moment Mark was currently outside on guard. Peter didn't know the full details, but he knew enough to know Mark's place in the gang had been relegated over to him. And he did not like it. Peter didn't really care either way, although he was worried about the possibility of a fight with Mark. More than once he had caught the other guy glaring at him, and since the guy had a hot temper at the best of times it wasn't a good combination, so Peter had to watch his back. Peter wasn't particularly bothered about Mark trying to start anything; with Felicia and the others stopping him from losing his temper, Mark couldn't do anything, but if the other guy tried to attack him then Peter would fight back though he didn't really want that to happen since it would mean revealing his leopard abilities.

That was the _**last**_ thing Peter really wanted to do. He hadn't told Felicia or the professional burglar about his leopard abilities, and he wanted to try to keep it that way; he still remembered the mess with that mother and her kid, and how she had raised all kinds of hate-mongering hell when he had saved her from being mugged or worse, and she'd had the police and newspapers search for the mutant.

Peter had no idea how Felicia or the others felt about mutants, and while he wasn't a born mutant that didn't mean the gang would listen to him. Why should they? Peter knew if they found out he had abilities they didn't, they'd probably react with terror and lash out at him Who knew what would happen next? Peter had no desire to find out what they would do, but he had no doubt if it came down to a fight between himself and Mark, he would need to use his leopard abilities. His only hope was if it did happen then he'd be able to hold back from losing his temper. If it came out during a fight then Mark might go to the cops, but Peter doubted it would go that far. Mark might have been an idiot, but he was still a burglar. If he went to the police then he'd likely be arrested.

No matter what, Peter had no desire to get into a fight with anyone since it could lead to any course of trouble.

At that point, he became aware someone was near him. Peter turned around and saw the professional burglar next to him.

"You've done well tonight," he complimented.

"Thanks," Peter replied.

"You free again tomorrow?"

"No. I've got a free day off college, but I'm going to be visiting my aunt and uncle," Peter answered. He had been looking forward to the day for a week now, and he had no intention of giving it up for anything. Not for a burglary, a break-in or working with the gang. Nor for college, his lecturers, his courses, or from Harry. He just wanted to spend time with his family and that was it, and if anyone got in the way of those plans…

But the professional burglar held up his hand. "Eh, I don't blame you," he said with a grin, "I'm looking forward to spending time at my sisters' place over the weekend. Still, you're doing brilliantly here with us."

Peter smiled. "Thank you," he returned gratefully.

Once everyone was finished, the professional burglar drove them back to the storage place and they got everything packed away inside. Peter had to admit to himself the professional burglar was good - okay, so using a storage container might be the oldest trick in the book depending on your point of view, but it was still a good one, especially if you had a lot of stuff.

Everything cleared out of the houses the gang burgled would be stored here, then it would be slowly moved to the different fences and contacts the professional had, so the various bits taken from the burglaries wouldn't be hanging around long enough to become suspicious to the people who maintained the containers while giving the gang anonymity. What made it even better in Peter's mind was the fact the gang met at a prearranged place so no-one knew where the professional lived, that way if anyone

Peter helped the others move everything into the storage unit, doing his best to lift as much as he could without giving too much away about his Leopard abilities. The things he was picking up weren't too hard to move, but as long as he didn't pick too much up without any physical effort then he would be fine.

The only problem came when he had to put up with a few nudges from Mark, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. The best thing to do was to simply ignore it, but it did mentally make him sigh with irritation; how many times had Flash or one of his goon squad nudged or bumped into him when he wasn't even aware they were nearby? After being nudged for a fourth time, Peter had to close his eyes to hold down the rage he was feeling. When he finally got his temper under control, he picked up the TV he'd been carrying and took it to the storage container.

Felicia was waiting for him. She had seen what Mark had done. "Give Mark some time," she advised, "he has a tendency to act like a five-year-old."

Peter had to bite down his anger. Felicia had nothing to do with Mark's inability to act like an adult, so it was unfair to take it all out on her. "It's okay," he reassured her, hoping none of his anger was seeping into his voice. "Its nothing I can't handle."

Felicia gave him a searching look. "Okay," she replied before she changed the subject. "We've got a good haul here," she said.

"How long will it take to get rid of?"

"Ooh, a few months, I guess," Felicia replied, sounding unsure. "Our boss likes to keep the storage containers we use as full as possible while he piles all kinds of stuff into them, that way storage hunters will know this place isn't to be broken into."

Peter nodded, thankful the conversation on topic was calming him down. "That makes sense," he said, his mind working it out before a flaw in this model occurred to him. "What about the cops?" he asked in a lower voice.

"What about them?"

"Doesn't anyone tell the police that we're bringing in a lot of stuff?" Peter clarified.

Felicia chuckled, the sound alone was as smooth as silk (' _Don't get any ideas, you have no idea whether or not she'd feel the same!'_ he chided himself) before she shook her head. "I doubt it," she replied, "the guy who runs this place is an ex-burglar himself."

"No way!" Peter gaped.

Felicia nodded, a mischievous little girl grin lit up on her face. "Yes way," she countered. "You didn't think our boss, someone who is so careful and cautious, would just choose anybody to store what we stole, huh?"

Peter closed his eyes. He felt like a moron now. It certainly made sense now he was hearing it the boss who didn't want anyone to even know _who_ he was and where he even _lived_ and was so cautious he ordered those who were involved with his gang to arrive at a predetermined destination, was unlikely to slip up with something so simple. He didn't seem the type of burglar who'd just anybody without taking some precautions. For a moment Peter wondered if the owner of this storage unit and the professional burglar were old friends, but he decided he didn't want to know.

Felicia giggled at his expression while they both moved the stuff into the container. It was getting really packed in now, but there was still just enough space to pack the place. "Don't feel too bad, Pete," she said. "I made the same mistake. I was so paranoid about the cops finding out about the container, but he told me it was okay, and the owner is kosher."

Peter nodded, and he wondered if the owner of the place was getting paid. It was likely, but he decided that it wasn't his problem anyway. "What are your plans?" he changed the subject around while he watched her go still before she turned to him, her eyes crinkled at the question.

"What do you mean, are you asking me on a date?"

"No! I meant," Peter stumbled a bit and hoped that he wasn't blushing. "I meant, do you plan on going solo?"

While she was amused by Peter being flustered, Felicia knew what he had on his mind. Still, she gave the question some thought. "I think so," she said, at last, looking at him with a smile. "I've already told the boss and he's cool with it, but he says he still has a lot he can teach me. He can teach both of us; he's kinda like the Yoda of burglary."

Peter chuckled at the comparison, and he even tried to picture the small, aged, green, big-eared Jedi Master with the professional burglar who was their boss, and he had to admit that perhaps Felicia had a point. "What kind of burglary are you going to go in?" he asked.

Felicia blew out a breath. "I'm not even sure. I mean, my dad used to break into homes where there was a piece of art with his name on it, bits like that. But after being with the gang, I might just stick to house burglaries. They're easier to plan, simpler to pull off, and while it would be nice to do more, I don't want to make a habit of it otherwise it will get boring."

Peter understood where she was at.

* * *

Finally, when the gang broke up, Peter smiled as he watched Felicia walk ahead of him. He was pleased she seemed so nice and kind, and helpful. But yet he didn't think she would be interested in someone like him.

* * *

When Felicia returned to her apartment, she grinned when she saw her pet black cat yowling expectantly at her. "Give me a moment," she told her cat before she hung up her jacket and began searching the apartment, room by room. Some might call her paranoid, but after being nearly raped a few years ago, she didn't want to take the chance in case somebody was here.

Only when she was certain no-one was in the apartment, did she go back to her cat and put some food down and start a meal for herself. While the food was cooking, Felicia thought about Peter. He had certainly come a long way in a short amount of time, and he had come out of his shell and had come to trust her enough to give him her name.

He also had an obvious crush on her, but Felicia was certainly flattered. She just wasn't sure if anything would happen, personally. Maybe it would, but it had been a long time since she had gone through the near-rape since she trusted someone that far. Still, Peter seemed harmless and nice enough. He didn't seem the type certainly to rape anyone, so there was that to be thankful for, though there was something about him that didn't make sense to her. She deduced he had his own secrets, but she would let him keep them while she waited to see how this all went.

* * *

Peter grinned as he received a steaming hot, homemade meal. Aunt May smiled at him while she laid the plate full of chicken, beans, and mashed potato in front of him.

"This looks great, thanks Aunt May," he said.

"You're welcome, Peter," May replied as she went to grab her husband's plate and she sat it down while Peter helped himself to a corn on the cob and some gravy.

Once the Parkers had begun eating their meal, Peter almost moaned in pleasure when he began tasting the meal. He had been taught by his aunt how to cook and how to care for himself when he'd made his plans for going into the city to college known, but it was still a treat for him to eat her food.

Okay, so the food he was eating now was fairly fresh, but the problem was Harry seemed to thrive on eating junk food since he was now, more or less, out of his father's jurisdiction, and felt he could eat what he wanted, but while Peter did indulge here and there, he preferred eating fresh, home-cooked meals.

"So, Peter, how's college?" Uncle Ben asked.

Peter paused before he replied. He felt there were two meanings to the question. "College is going great," he replied, "I'm meeting more and more people like me, people who went through much the same as I did," Peter paused for a moment as a thought passed through his mind, _Yeah, but they weren't spliced with leopard DNA, were they?_ "It's far better than High-school; at least with college I don't have to go into classes I don't think I'd need."

May and Ben both shared a look. They knew only too well that although their nephew had done the work and he had worked long and hard in the various classes, he hadn't enjoyed some of it. Hearing that was far from surprising.

"Has anyone caught your eye?" Uncle Ben asked, deciding to just get down to it.

Peter had to smirk when he saw Aunt May roll her eyes at the question. "No, no not yet," Peter replied, ignoring his uncle's disappointment. He wondered if he should tell them about Felicia, but he decided it was a bad idea until he had worked out where he stood with her, and more importantly how he could describe being in a relationship with someone older than he was, and even how he could describe what she did and how they'd even met in the first place. Peter had to admit to himself he wasn't even sure how they'd feel about the fact she was older than he was by a couple of years even though it wasn't much of a difference.


	24. Chapter 24 Aunt May in Hospital

I don't own anything, just this story.

Please let me know what you think.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

"Hello?" Peter answered his mobile when it rang suddenly when he had been about to go into one of his classes. To his surprise, he saw that it was his Uncle Ben. The moment Peter saw his uncles' name on the screen of his phone, he knew something had happened and it must have been serious enough for Ben to call when he and his wife knew his schedule back to front.

" _Peter, you've got to come to Midtown General now!"_ Peter flinched when he heard his uncle's voice shouting hysterically in a panic down the phone line. But once he recovered he realised what his Uncle had said.

 _Oh, Christ almighty, what's happened now?_ Peter wondered to himself, remembering the hell he and his aunt had gone through when that robber had broken into the house. _If that's happened now, I will fucking tear this city apart to find him!_

" _Peter, are you still there?"_ Ben asked, his voice losing some of the hysteria though not by much.

Pushing back the shame he was feeling for forgetting that his uncle was still on the phone, Peter had to fight to calm himself down so then he didn't accidentally crush the phone in his grip.

"I'm here. What happened?" he asked quickly before Ben could ask any stupid questions. Peter felt he was prepared to hear anything, but when his Uncle spoke again, his voice seeming to tremble down the phone line and the teenager was surprised the phone itself did not shake itself out of his hand.

" _The Green Goblin… he attacked our house."_

 _WHAT?_

Out of the corner of Peter's eye, he could see that the tutor for his next class had come to see what was taking him so long to get inside so she could begin her lecture, but he paid her no heed. "Is Aunt May okay?" he whispered quietly. It was happening again. He had made a mistake, and his loved ones were paying for it. The first time around had been when Peter had simply refused to use his leopard-abilities against that robber, and his uncle had come close to dying. He and his family had managed to move on and he had become a burglar, but he had made sure to take steps to make sure no-one knew about his aunt and uncle, and there he stumbled across the first true slap of cold hard logic which struck him in the face with the force of a sledgehammer.

How had the Green Goblin tracked him down? Yes, the Goblin had been terrorising different parts of the city for a while now, but truthfully he hadn't launched any major attacks. Was this why? Was he planning to attack his family, but how?

" _We were just getting ready for bed when he attacked. I was downstairs, looking up when there was an explosion. When I got there, I found May cowering on the floor while he stood on that….that flying thing of his. He…. he blasted a chunk of the wall to our bedroom, and he sprayed some kind of gas at us just as I was about to run at him. I felt woozy, and I could not move. I heard him taunting May, and I heard her panic,"_ Peter closed his eyes and he had to restrain the urge to punch a hole in the wall as he listened, " _I woke up in the hospital, but I wasn't strong enough to call you and let you know what happened.'_

"No, I'm glad you did," Peter replied, but he couldn't say anything else his lecturer cleared her throat pointedly. Peter glanced at the impatient woman and winced mentally about holding up the lecture, but at that point, he truly did not care. He needed to get to the hospital quickly.

"Uncle Ben, I'll see you soon, however, you will need to speak to my current teacher about what's happened," Peter said seriously.

On the other end of the phone, Uncle Ben sighed. " _Damn, I am sorry Peter, about ringing you when you were about to go to class-,"_ Ben tried to apologise since he and May knew how seriously Peter took his education and his learning, but Peter angrily cut him off. "No, I'd have wanted to know, and I am grateful. I'll be there when I can, but first, you'll have to tell my tutor why."

Peter handed his mobile over to the lecturer, knowing that the woman had probably heard all kinds of excuses from various students over the years and had built up immunity to even the most pathetic excuse, though this one would definitely trump them all. The tutor took the phone and then spent the next five minutes listening to the story, and she even spoke to a couple of doctors before she looked apologetically and sympathetically over at Peter before she handed over the phone.

"Give my love to your uncle and aunt Peter, and I'll speak to my colleagues about your absence," she said at last.

Peter nodded, thankful for her understanding. "Thank you," he replied simply, unsure of what else he could be saying at this point though truthfully if he were honest with himself, Peter truly didn't want to really speak to anybody at the moment.

The lecturer shook her head. "I still can't believe the Green Goblin attacked your family,' she commented, "you'd think the police would deal with the bastard. But what made the Goblin attack your folks?"

"I honestly don't know," Peter replied, though truthfully there was no doubt whatsoever about the reasons, he just wanted to know how the Goblin had tracked his family down after that burglary at the Oscorp tower. "But I need to go, hopefully when I get there my aunt will be alright."

The lecturer winced as she realised she had been keeping Peter behind. "Go," she said simply, and Peter left without another word, though he did wave his thanks before he headed out to Midtown General Hospital.

* * *

It was a nightmarish journey from Empire State University to Midtown General. Not a nightmare in the sense Peter was held up in traffic. He had learnt that it was possible, just about, to squeeze his way through the rows upon rows of cars that waited patiently near traffic lights, but at the moment Peter didn't give a damn about the traffic laws as he sped on his way to the hospital.

The good news was ever since Peter had started using his leopard abilities to commit thefts, he had begun using the backstreets and the back alleys to get from place to place. But from the moment he got onto his motorcycle and started the engine, to Peter the traffic laws of the United States of America could mean shit as far as he was concerned. He was going to get to Midtown General, and he didn't really care at that point if he got a few points on his licence.

He had to get to the hospital and he had to see his Aunt May, but most importantly the concentration he placed on the journey stopped him from concentrating too much on the Green Goblin and the way he'd managed to track him down. Peter knew it would not last. Soon he would feel the same guilt that had haunted him when Uncle Ben had been shot by that robber, but hopefully this time he would get some closure. He had been on the sidelines the first time around, but this time he knew who was behind the attack, and he had a good idea of how to find the Green Goblin.

The Green Goblin had been close to the Oscorp Penthouse and he had seemed to care a great deal about the penthouse suite and what was inside it. At the time Peter had found it odd, now he didn't know.

To his relief, he arrived at last at the hospital. Uncle Ben was waiting for him. Peter felt his heart break even more, but he also felt the leopard inside of him want nothing more than to lash out at the goblin for doing this.

He had never seen Uncle Ben look this upset. Never. Even when he had been injured by the robber who'd shot him, Uncle Ben had been in a state but he had still had that same old confidence and strength, but now he looked frightened, nervy. He also looked like he had aged decades more than his true age in a short space of time, and he looked like he was a mess. His hair was mussed up, his eyes were wide and bloodshot while he had deep bags underneath his eyes. His clothes looked like they had been slept in, and his face was grey.

Uncle Ben waited until Peter was off of his motorcycle and he hugged him tightly like an octopus frightened of letting go. "Thanks for coming, son," he whispered and Peter wrapped his arms around his uncle, scared to see him so frightened, scared that he was shaking. "I'm sorry for taking you away from your courses….-," he also tried to say, but Peter pulled back and shook his head.

"It's okay," he assured his uncle, at that point not caring about his college education "How is she?" he went on seriously.

Uncle Ben nodded, looking reassured. "The doctors say she'll pull through," he replied. "That Goblin thing didn't cause any serious damage, but she caught the full blast of whatever kind of gas he used."

Peter took a staggered breath while he tried to reassure his uncle. Deep inside him however, his inner leopard wanted nothing more than rant and rage and go on a rampage to find the Green Goblin and tear him apart, razor-edged bats and bombs or not. Peter had done his level best to keep himself under control at all times, but at this point, this was one of those times where he simply did not really care about his own rules. Realising just in time that he was coming very close to losing it, Peter needed to close his eyes and regain control of his temper. The last thing he wanted right now was to lose his temper right here at the hospital, it wouldn't help his aunt, and all he'd get was a smashed up hospital and nothing but questions and terror at what he had done.

"Are you okay, apart from that?" Peter asked unsure of what else he could say in his current mood. He felt as if he had just been shoved into a corner.

Ben shook his head. "I was left unconscious, but the gas didn't affect me as much as it affected May. She's still unconscious."

Peter went into the hospital with his uncle trailing next to him. When he saw her he pulled back in shock. "No," he whispered.

Aunt May was in the hospital bed, surrounded by the instruments that monitored her health and her heart rate while she was wired into a spaghetti mess of wires and christ knew what else, that only made the elderly lady look more frail and old beyond her years.

Peter walked over to the bed, not once taking his eyes off of her. He felt sick and guilty. He was responsible for this mess, he had put his Aunt into this mess. Peter looked at the woman who had been his mother far more than his own biological flesh and blood mother had ever been, and he felt ill that this had happened to her.

Ben walked over to him and placed a hand on his arm. Together they stood near Aunt May, neither saying anything for completely different reasons.

* * *

Peter and Uncle Ben stayed near Aunt May who remained unconscious for two full days. In that time Peter was practically forced out of the hospital room by his uncle. Ben didn't want his nephew to miss out on his life, his education. Peter didn't want to at first, but he relented when he saw that his Uncle was right. Still, that didn't mean he had to like it. He had to go to college and do his work. At the same time, he continued with his jobs. As for the burglary gang he needed to tell Felicia and the rest of the gang about what had happened.

The boss of the gang was instantly sympathetic since word of the attack had reached him from his contacts, though where they were Peter didn't know and didn't care. He was just grateful that the leader of the gang wasn't automatically calling him a liar or something, but even then Peter found himself just not caring.

Still, he was surprised when he received a visitor while Uncle Ben was not there. His Uncle had been called to inspect the damaged house and to arrange for a building firm to repair the damage to the house, and it would keep him busy and away from the hospital for hours while he was left to care for Aunt May.

"Felicia?" Peter said in surprise when he saw the girl with a beautiful bouquet of flowers in her hands.

Felicia looked nervous as she stood outside the room. "Hi, Peter," she said softly, "Erm, may I come in?"

Peter held the door open. "Sure."

Felicia smiled and she walked into the room and looked around for a vase and placed the bouquet in them before she took a bottle of water she'd brought with her out of her handbag and she poured it into the vase. Peter watched her in surprise, amazed and curious about why she was there.

"I…I know I don't know her," Felicia said softly, gazing at the body of the unconscious woman sadly, "but I wanted to pay my respects, I mean we are friends, right?"

Peter smiled warmly at her. "Yeah, we are," he said, his voice practically choking with emotion.

Felicia smiled back at him. She sat next to him as they watched the woman on the bed. Felicia kept sending Peter a few looks from time to time, but other than that they didn't say a word to one another as they sat in companionable silence for nearly two hours before Uncle Ben returned. Peter looked up at him as he walked in, noting with worry that he looked exhausted.

"How did you leave it?" Peter asked, but Ben waved the question away, making it more than clear he didn't even want to think about the matter right now.

Ben noticed Felicia. "Hello, who are you?"

Felicia stood up and smiled at Ben hesitantly, wondering inwardly what Peter had said to him about her despite telling her that he had told his relatives he'd made friends from work. "Hello, Mr Parker," she said, "My name is Felicia Hardy. I'm a friend at Peters from work. I came to see if he was alright, and if your wife was getting better," she held out her hand, and Uncle Ben took it and he sent Peter a look.

When Peter had had that meal with him and May, he had talked about a girl whom he had met at work. While Ben couldn't really tell just how old this girl was relative to Peter's own age, Ben didn't really care though he wasn't sure if they would get together.

"Hello, Felicia and please call me Ben," Uncle Ben smiled at the girl warmly as he took her hand and shook it, "Peter's told me about you."

Felicia sent a smile towards Peter. "All good I hope," she said, wondering why she was nervous.

"Yes, definitely."

After a few more minutes of getting to know Felicia and giving a brief summary about what had happened, Ben became visibly disheartened that May hadn't yet woken up yet. Felicia immediately told him that she was going to get better soon, and she began to get ready to leave but not before she sent Peter a look.

"I'll see her off, uncle Ben," Peter said, only getting a smile in return.

"Hey, Pete," Ben whispered in a conspiratorial tone. "I like her."

Peter blushed and nodded, and he quickly closed the door to end this whole topic. Truth be told, Peter genuinely had no idea if he and Felicia would get together, though if they did he would be grateful.

Felicia was waiting for him outside much to his surprise, but she was smiling at him shyly, and he got the impression that she had overheard everything Uncle Ben had said, making the teenager curse his uncle. Still, he followed her outside where no-one could hear them.

"Thanks for coming," Peter was saying as he went out with her.

"Don't mention it. I was happy to come," Felicia replied with a smile. "You talk so fondly of them that it's easy to see they love you."

"Yeah," Peter replied.

Felicia's smile faded, and her eyes became more curious. "Peter, why did the Green Goblin go for them? I mean, I know that the bastard has been flying around for weeks now, blowing things up, but he was always targeting places like schools, hospitals, and police stations."

Peter looked down grimly as his own smile faded. Felicia was right. The Green Goblin had been spreading a wave of terror across the entire city. It had gotten so bad the Avengers had been called in to handle the problem, but the Green Goblin had managed to escape from the battle. All that had been left was a devastated city block. He could understand where Felicia was going with her question, after battling and taking on the likes of the Avengers and blowing up police stations, why would he target an elderly couple living in Forest Hills?

Peter looked up at Felicia grimly. He motioned for her to follow him to the street so then they could speak together in private without anyone overhearing.

Felicia watched him as he gathered the words to speak. But what he said surprised her.

"A couple of weeks before I met you and the gang," Peter said quietly, "I broke into the Osborn Penthouse."

Felicia gaped at him in surprise. She had been expecting anything, but she hadn't expected that. "The Osborn Penthouse?" she repeated weakly before she shook her head as if she were trying to clear her mind while she watched him nod in confirmation. "You burgled the Osborn Penthouse, that place at the top of that tower block?" He nodded again.

"How?"

"Long story short, I used an abandoned lift shaft to get in," Peter replied, and he saw the interest in Felicia's face as if she were planning on playing the place a visit herself even though he had burgled it before her. "Anyway, while I was there, the Green Goblin attacked, and yet he didn't."

"What?" Felicia was confused.

Peter sighed as he went back to that night, back to the burglary he had planned far in advance before the Goblin made it all go so wrong. "The Goblin didn't attack me at first, he just told me to put everything back."

"Only you didn't?"

"No, I didn't," Peter replied, "I'd gone to a lot of trouble to get _into_ the place, I wasn't going to let some…thing tell me what to do. He didn't take too kindly to that. Anyway, I managed to escape, but just as I was leaving the bastard threw a razor-edged bat at me, and it made me bleed. I think the Goblin used my blood to find my aunt and uncle to get back at me.

Felicia shook her head. No-one knew anything that much about the Green Goblin, though it was becoming clear to everyone in the city the Goblin was malicious. "Sick bastard," she muttered.

Peter nodded.

"Why would he care about the Penthouse?" Felicia asked.

Peter sighed. He had been thinking about this on and off for a while now, but this was the first time he would tell anyone. But he was just pleased it was Felicia Hardy he was telling this too. "I think…. the Goblin has a connection of some kind to Oscorp, or maybe Norman Osborn. Think about it, he slaughtered the Board members, right at the point where Oscorp would be sold to a rival company. With them dead, Norman retook control of his organisation. Yeah, quite a few people wondered if he was some kind of spy, but most said the Goblin was just slaughtering everyone at the World Fair that he wanted. I didn't particularly care since it wasn't my problem, but when he attacked me at the Penthouse and told me to put everything back, he didn't want to damage anything there."

Felicia listened to this silently. Much like Peter and indeed some of the other burglars in the gang, Felicia hadn't bothered to really care about the Green Goblin, although she had watched the news and read the papers which detailed what he had been doing, though she had read about the speculation about Oscorp, but she had decided, like Peter himself had, it wasn't her problem.

But listening to Peter… she was becoming concerned, and she could also guess that even though he had hurt Peter and his relatives, the Green Goblin was far from finished. She was worried. She was worried that the Goblin would press and press and press, but without any powers of his own, Peter was in terrible danger.

"I think there is a connection, Felicia, between the Goblin and Oscorp; think about it, he wiped out the Board members and he needed to be supplied with weapons and hardware. I don't know what is going to happen, Felicia," Peter went on, "but I am worried. I'm worried about what's going to come next."

Felicia looked at him sympathetically.


	25. Chapter 25 The End

The final chapter of The Leopard from New York. I hope you've enjoyed it.

As usual, I don't own Spider-Man or any of the characters you recognise.

Feedback would be nice.

* * *

The Leopard from New York.

Peter stepped through the door into the apartment he shared with Harry exhausted. He had spent the entire day with Aunt May and Uncle Ben. His aunt was still unconscious following the attack of the Green Goblin and Uncle Ben was stressed out from keeping watch on his wife and sorting out the mess left behind by the Goblin. Ben always went on his own despite his nephew's occasional asking if he wanted him to come along and help, but Ben had always refused; he didn't want his wife to wake up in the hospital ward alone, and Peter understood that but he just felt so hopeless and useless in the room.

Peter had no idea how long it would take before the house was repaired, but tonight Ben had told him to go to college the next day and come visit the hospital when he was finished with work. Peter didn't like the idea of leaving his Uncle all alone, but Ben had put his foot down. He knew how important it was for Peter to get his education, but that didn't mean Peter had to like it. In any case, Ben refused to be responsible for his nephew losing out on life.

The apartment felt like an alien world to Peter. It had only been a few days since he had seen it and yet the place felt odd. On the way back, however, Peter was actually glad to be away from the hospital because while he had been there he hadn't had that much time to think.

"Harry?" he called through the flat, wondering if his lazy friend was here or not. When no answer came back Peter had his answer, but he wasn't bothered since the empty flat meant he would have the place to himself for a while. The only thing that concerned Peter the most was the open balcony doors, but he didn't pay them any attention for now; in any case, the breeze was refreshing. He went to the sink and took out a glass and filled it with water, and he took a deep sip.

Peter took a look at the state of the fridge and saw there wasn't that much to eat. He was starving and he wanted to wake up in the morning with a bit of his energy back, but all that was in the fridge were a few things that would require time to cook. While he would preferably like a home-cooked meal, Peter was just too exhausted to have anything complicated.

Instead, he grabbed some milk and a bowl and some cheerios and dumped a ton into the bowl. As he moved his nose wrinkled with distaste as he caught a whiff of his BO. Peter went into his room and grabbed a towel and some fresh clothes, and he went to the bathroom and after making sure the shower cubicle was clean he slipped inside and started to wash.

As he let the water run over himself and wash away the suds made by the shower gel and closing his eyes in pleasure as the water soothed his tired muscles and body, Peter suddenly paused as his leopard-enhanced hearing caught something over the sounds of the rushing water. Peter stood very still and listened. He thought he could hear the sounds of an engine, and his teeth bared in a very cat-like snarl as he realised that it was the sound of the Green Goblin's glider.

Peter shut off the shower and he stepped out of the cubicle carefully before he took the towel and quickly rubbed himself dry before he donned the clothes he'd prepared and stepped out of the shower, his exhaustion forgotten. He slowly opened the door and stepped out, not really bothering to keep quiet when he saw the Green Goblin standing there. The Goblin's mask was still fixed in that grotesque grin, but with the lenses covering his eyes, Peter couldn't tell what the Goblin was thinking, but from his stance, he could tell the man underneath that body armour was prepared for a fight.

"So you do know who I am," Peter said, though there had been little doubt since the Goblin had gone after his relatives and only them instead of anybody else in the street at Forest Hills.

"Yes. You're an amazing creature," the Goblin said, not bothering to hide the truth, "we're not too different."

Peter scoffed. "Oh, we're very different; I burgle people without revealing what I can do. You blow things up wearing that stupid mask and that body armour. We're very different."

A sound emanated from the Goblin's mask. He clearly didn't like being contradicted but Peter didn't care about that.

"What do want?" Peter asked, wanting the Goblin to get down to business.

The Goblin suddenly loosened his posture and his body language became less aggressive. "I want us to start over," he said.

Peter couldn't believe it. "What?" he started to snicker at the very idea that the Goblin was coming up with though he had no idea if it meant what he thought it meant. "What do you mean?"

"We are stronger together. Think about it; we were both created by Oscorp technology. We are both exceptional. Think of what we can do if we together," the Goblin said while he tried to make his gravelly voice as inviting as possible.

Peter was silent for a moment as he considered what the Goblin was saying. He couldn't believe the Green Goblin had the gall to suggest they forget everything and just work together, and he wondered if the Goblin was wackier than he had first thought. As he thought about the things this _thing_ had done, the destruction of the police stations, the hospitals, and that school where even _children_ were killed or injured, Peter didn't have that much trouble in guessing what this man wanted out of an alliance.

The idea of going from a burglar to a murderer made him feel sick because it didn't just go against his morals - he might be a burglar but he had no desire to kill people - and he knew that if the Green Goblin did let him live, that would all he would become; a thoughtless murderer. Peter did not want that.

And then he considered the fact this man had attacked his aunt and uncle. Was this some kind of intimidation game? Your relatives will die if you refuse to do as I tell you to do? Peter stiffened with rage as he considered what would happen if he said no, his aunt and uncle would be killed, and yet a part of him wondered if they wouldn't all die anyway even if he said yes.

Peter made up his mind, but he still said, "Do you mind if I think it over?"

The Goblin's head jerked up slightly in surprise. "Yes, of course."

Peter nodded and left the room slowly and went to his bedroom where he snatched up one of the balaclavas he used for burglary. He slipped it on his head and he dashed back out again to confront the Goblin. However the Goblin was prepared for the attack, and he had in his hand one of his trademark bombs. But he was taken by surprise by Peter's running leap.

The Goblin groaned as he had to struggle with Peter's weight, and he forced the glider out of the apartment. "I knew you'd say no!" he cackled.

"Then why did you make the offer?"

The Goblin continued to cackle. It was starting to grate on Peter's nerves. "I wanted to see if you were weak-willed," he replied.

Peter delivered a punch to the Goblin's mask. He felt his knuckles graze themselves on the high-tech materials of the mask, but the blow made the Goblin groan although he quickly shrugged off the blow.

Peter was not really shocked; he had already worked out from the stories about the Goblin and from his own experiences the Goblin was enhanced in some way since it was the only way he could stay on the Glider without being blown off by the inertia and the force of the wind, and on top of that he had lifted people up in his hands and took them high in the air. Forcing himself to ignore the pain he was going to be getting back in return, Peter started pummelling the Green Goblin while the glider lurched from side to side.

One of the blows as was powerful thanks to Peter wrapping his legs and thighs around the Goblin suddenly and then using the power of both of his fists to deliver a blow to the head. The Goblin shrieked under the force of the blow, though Peter had no idea if it had truly stunned him though because he had no idea what the Goblin had done to himself, it was impossible to tell.

Still, the blow disturbed the Goblin's skilled concentration with flying the glider, and nearly sent them careening towards a tower block.

"Stop doing that, you fool! You could have killed us!" the Goblin screamed, only for him to gurgle in surprise as Peter suddenly wrapped an arm around his neck and choked him. Peter grunted as he heard the Goblin struggle, and he almost cried out in pain as he was surprised by the claw-like nature of the Green Goblin's grip which made him think of a clawed hand, but he held back the urge. Instead, he leaned forward and hissed low so then the Goblin didn't get the satisfaction of knowing he was hurting him.

"Then that's the way it should be!"

"Are you mad?!" the Goblin recoiled even as he tried to both throw off Peter's grip and steer the glider. "You'll kill us both!"

"You tried to murder my aunt and uncle!" Peter retorted harshly. "You knew I was the one who broke into Osborn's penthouse, but instead of keeping this between us, you brought this on yourself."

"I was sending you a message-!"

"You could have done that some other way instead of coming after me!" Peter snapped back while he wondered just how much longer he could hold onto the Green Goblin like this; the Goblin was strong and regardless of his mental state, Peter had no doubt that at some point he would find a way of shaking him off. And the Glider and its attitude didn't fill him with much confidence either; now he was on top of the Green Goblin, travelling very fast, Peter wondered how long it would be before he either fell off because he'd slipped or if the Goblin simply pushed him off. Either way, it was a long way to the ground.

"You shouldn't have broken into the Penthouse, Parker!"

"On that subject, how do you know so much about me? How is it you seem to have become a sick guardian angel for Oscorp?" Peter demanded, pleased that the Green Goblin had just given him an excuse to vent some of the questions he'd had on his mind since the penthouse and then later when Uncle Ben and Aunt May had been attacked.

"I don't have to tell you anything-!"

"Oh, that's fine," Peter snapped as he pummelled the Goblin while he wrapped his legs around the other man's legs, not really bothered the Goblin refused to talk. The blows elicited grunts and groans from the Goblin, but they were still flying through the air between the canyons separating the skyscrapers and the streets.

The Green Goblin swung his body around, throwing his arms out to either knock him off of his back or to deliver a blow of his own. Peter either ducked underneath the Goblin's arms, making the Goblin scream in anger. The sound shocked Peter whenever he heard it. The sounds were like the caws of some wild bird, mixed with the sound of a witch's high pitched rattle of a cackle.

Peter felt his frustration growing with each second they were both in the air. The longer he and the Goblin were fighting up here, the easier it would be for the bastard to shake him off. The blows the Green Goblin were trying to land were getting more faster, and Peter had no doubt the Goblin would connect sooner or later.

"Get off ME!" the Goblin shrieked.

Peter winced as the Goblin yelled, and he managed to grab hold of the Goblin's arm as he swung around again. He strained against the Goblin's strength, marvelling at how his enemy was giving him problems. He was in awe of how the Green Goblin seemed to strain against his strength while Peter was pushing the arm back as though they were two railway locomotives of near-equal power pushing against each other. He had wondered when this fight started which of them was the strongest, but this was hardly a good demonstration.

His opponent was still locked into the glider meaning he wasn't entirely mobile, but he was still in control of their flight through the air above the streets of New York, and it was travelling at incredible speed. All of the Goblin's blows were lightning fast, and he knew one of those blows would connect at some point.

Peter pushed as hard as his leopard-enhanced strength could budge, but it didn't work because the Goblin's other arm swung around, and Peter had to let go of the arm he was hanging onto otherwise he would have been knocked off. Peter growled like a leopard while he heard the Green Goblin's insane cackle; his enemy was loving this despite the setbacks he was facing, and he was enjoying having an enemy around his level in his midst.

But the Green Goblin used another tactic, he started to swerve from one side to another with his Glider, slamming to both the left and to the right with incredible speed. He cackled each time, certain that his young opponent wouldn't be able to hold on. Peter had been taken by surprise when the Goblin had swerved to the left, and nearly sent the pair of them into one of the many office blocks that lined the streets of the city, but he had managed to grab onto the Goblin's back at the last minute, and clung on for dear life.

After that, Peter had to hand on as the Goblin kept swerving, and the Goblin laughed each time he felt Peter's grip loosen. For a long moment, Peter was frustrated that his enemy was laughing whenever he lost his grip and needed to work hard just to keep hold. He wished instead of a leopard that he had been spliced with a spider, although from what he knew about them spiders had little hairs on their legs, so the thought of his hands being covered with hairs was not a very nice one, they'd definitely help him hold on. After being swerved about far too many times, Peter finally became frustrated and he grabbed hold of the Goblin when he swerved again, and he put more weight onto the Goblin's body.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE CRAZY, YOU WILL KILL US BOTH!" the Goblin shrieked and was now trying desperately to right himself.

Peter grimaced at the volume of the shout but he didn't react as he looked down and saw that the Goblin controlled the glider thanks to the foot-rests. Peter kicked out, gathering all of his strength and shoving it all into the kick.

The Goblin yelled as the blow critically damaged the foot control and he took the full brunt as the glider suddenly crashed into one of the office blocks, which made him yell with something Peter took to be surprised pain.

Peter grimaced underneath his mask as he heard the sound of shattered glass and grinding metal and he also heard the sounds the Goblin made as they went through the wall, and he leapt off just as the Goblin crashed into another wall. Peter stretched his legs, relieved to be off of the glider which had landed in a completely different part of the office, but now he waited while he gathered his energy.

The Green Goblin staggered out of the hole he'd made, his bodysuit covered with trails of plaster dust. Peter sprang into action. He covered the distance separating them and he started pummelling the Goblin, determined to get a few blows in before his enemy recovered. The Goblin grunted under the onslaught, and he went down.

Peter had always tried to keep his emotions under control whenever he went out or when he had to fight as he had with Flash and those mugger because it sent him into a berserker-like mode. Peter had no problems with unleashing it now, using his memories of seeing what had happened to Uncle Ben and Aunt May, the helpless state of his uncle at the attack on top of the mess where the safety of their family had been injured by that robber. He thought about his Aunt, frail and unconscious, lying in that hospital bed and he felt his anger increase.

The Goblin staggered under the onslaught as he found himself being pushed back by Peter. He tried to fight back with his own considerable cybernetic enhanced strength and power, but he had come into the fight too late. In any case, Peter used his superior agility to sidestep around him while they crashed around the office, smashing desks and wrecking computers, and sending documents to the floor.

It didn't take the Goblin long to fight back after getting a second wind, and Peter soon found himself matching the Goblin blow for blow. He found himself blocking blows he knew would easily shatter an ordinary human-beings jaw right in. He had to admit they were quite well matched, but while the Goblin's power was rooted in strength, speed and reflexes alone, he didn't have the cat-like agility and speed Peter did. Peter immersed himself deeply into his animal instincts and pretty soon the second wind the Goblin had gotten back was gone and Peter was delivering blow after blow and he was using brute force instead of intellect behind his blows instead of careful thought.

Pretty soon the Green Goblin realised he had been overwhelmed and he collapsed to the ground where Peter continued to rain down blows on his head and chest.

Suddenly something incredible happened. The Goblin held out his hands desperately. "Please stop!" he said in a different voice that was lighter than the gravelly tone he used. "Please! I-I can't take anymore!"

Slowly and with shaking hands the Green Goblin removed his mask. Peter gaped in surprise under his balaclava when the mask with the grotesque face of the Green Goblin's smile was taken off, revealing the bruised and terrified face of Norman Osborn!

"Mr Osborn!" Peter whispered. All this time he had wondered what the clear connection between Oscorp and the Green Goblin was, but finding out Norman Osborn was the Green Goblin was a shock. And yet... So much made sense. The Board members. Norman had wanted revenge there, and the Penthouse burglary? It was simply a case of one defending their home. Only the Goblin took it a step further.

 _I should have guessed,_ Peter thought to himself, but there was nothing he could do about it now, and truthfully he didn't really care. Norman Osborn wasn't really his problem if you looked at it from a different point of view, but he was now.

Osborn sobbed. "I'm sorry, I tried to stop him…! But I couldn't! He-he took control of me!"

Peter frowned under his mask when he noticed Osborn wasn't referring to him by name or what he had done. And then he realised, looking around the office they'd just trashed, there were security cameras. Had Osborn picked up on that, but he didn't want to reveal it to the public, or was there something else?

Osborn noticed that he was looking around, specifically at one of the nearest security cameras. "Don't worry, I shut them off when I had a brief moment of sanity back," he said reassuringly.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I have just as much to lose as you do," Osborn replied simply, looking down at his hands and sobbing.

"You killed everyone on that balcony, you attacked the world-fair!" Peter said wondering if this was an act.

Osborn suddenly laughed, his face twisting malevolently, his original fear replaced and Peter stiffened in anger that it was all a sham. "I had to. They were going to sell my company, the organisation I had sacrificed so much to build. They had to go," a sneer crossed his face as he glared at Peter, "and so must you!"

Peter tensed at the threat while the Green Goblin reasserted himself, and a twisted grin that was only half the size of the one which was the most defining feature of the mask he wore spread across his face... Peter let out a breath when he realised he was seeing the true face of Norman Osborn.

Osborn stood up. "There's nothing you can do, Parker," he sneered. "Yes, I shut off the cameras. You are the best enemy I've had. I'm not going to reveal your name to anyone."

"So it was all an act, you sobbing?" Peter asked, remaining tense as he realised the Goblin probably had dozens of tricks up his sleeve.

"Yes. I am always in control. I am the ultimate evolution of Norman Osborn," the Goblin boasted, and his voice rose higher and higher as he ranted with his eyes becoming fanatical. "Smarter, stronger. I am more ruthless than he ever was."

"What made you flip like this?" Peter asked, curiously though he remained tense and ready in case the Goblin attacked. But so far the Goblin looked poised and mellow.

Osborn cackled. "Wouldn't you like to know, Parker?" he grinned.

"You're insane," Peter whispered as he realised for himself just how mad his opponent was.

"Too right, boy!" Osborn snarled.

For the first time, Peter realised his enemy was touching some kind of control on his wrist, and at the same time he heard something behind him that he hadn't been able to hear before.

It was the sound of the glider. It had been ripped off the Green Goblin's feet when they'd crashed through the window, but Peter had disregarded it when he had been caught up in the fight. The Goblin Glider was humming gently, and it was coming closer. Peter tensed even more but he didn't turn around to alert the Goblin what he knew.

The Goblin started laughing.

"W-what are you laughing at?" Peter asked, playing along while he focused on Osborn's hand. It was touching the button again.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Osborn laughed, and he tilted his head back his laugh transforming into a cackle while he pressed his button while Peter heard a sound like metal grinding on metal before the glider let out a shrieking roar as it accelerated. Peter reacted instantly and he leapt into the air and performed a back-flip and he caught sight of the glider speeding past with long metal knives sticking out of the front. Peter thought he heard something from Osborn who spoke in his normal voice.

Osborn shrieked in agony as the glider's blades impaled him through the armour, the force crumbling the plaster walls like meringue. Osborn gurgled as the blood rose in his mouth, choking him and he collapsed onto the glider, blood trickling out of his mouth and onto the glider.

* * *

Peter sat brooding in the living room of his aunt and uncle's house, still dressed in his neat suit which he had worn to Norman Osborn's funeral for moral support for Harry. His friend was inconsolable about the death of his father. It was bad enough his father was dead, but Harry refused to believe the facts; his father was Norman Osborn.

Osborn had been giving him a half-truth. On the one hand, he had blocked the security footage and yet he hadn't. He had blocked the sound, but he hadn't blocked the visual feed though Osborn's mouth had been fogged much like those people whose face was hidden whenever the footage was confidential though it didn't stop everyone from seeing who the Green Goblin really was, so now the entire city knew the truth. Peter leaned back in his seat, not wanting to think about the consequences of what would happen with the revelation. He had no doubt Harry would lose a lot of Oscorp's assets after what his father had done since he had destroyed large amounts of the city, but there was nothing Peter could do to help his friend except to be there.

Another frustrating problem with Harry was his anger towards the man in a mask who he saw fighting his father. The only consolation was even Harry could not deny the masked man had little to do with his father's death; granted, Peter had leapt into the air over the glider and let it impale Osborn, but that was semantics. The newspapers and the rest of the media were in two minds, while some people and outlets were saying that the Green Goblin was now dead, they vilified Peter as a vigilante, a mutant vigilante.

Peter wasn't bothered. No-one would identify him since he had not worn some stupid costume, no-one had seen his face without the balaclava on, and without anyone really knowing who he was since the Goblin had harmed many people over the last few weeks, the police wouldn't know where to start. When Peter had gotten back to the apartment (not a nice journey since he had needed to find a way out without any security camera spotting him when the security men in charge of the building at night came in) and he had cleaned up any damage the Goblin had left, but fortunately there wasn't that much.

Peter closed his eyes and thought back to the night. After the Green Goblin was killed, Peter had heard lift doors open and two security men stepping out. After hiding away while the security guards were puzzled over the death of the Green Goblin and argued about what they were going to do next with the body, Peter had dodged around them and he went down a fire escape all the way to a door as silently as he could before he found the street. Once he was out in the open, he had raced down the alleyways and he had escaped back to the apartment and cleaned up any damage the Green Goblin and he might have left before they had rocketed out and had their fight.

Peter opened his eyes and stood up and looked around the living room. It was good to be here rather than near Harry, who wasn't really in a good place right now, and while he felt guilty about having a hand in the death of the man Peter wasn't sure how he felt deep down about the death of Norman Osborn.

Peter shook his head and he stood up and walked through the house and looked around. Uncle Ben was upstairs, supervising the reconstruction of the house while Aunt May was in the hospital. Peter decided that he would need to shove Norman Osborn out of his mind completely, and focus on other things.

He could claim that he had killed Osborn in self-defence.

He only wished he found a way to live with it.

In the time since his death, Peter had been bothered a great deal, but it was lessening with each day.


End file.
